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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25922788">Such Ghosts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasionally_always/pseuds/occasionally_always'>occasionally_always</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Such Ghosts [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Human, Gen, Ghost Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Ghost Sides (Sanders Sides), Human Sides (Sanders Sides), Minor Original Character(s), Morality | Patton Sanders is a Good Friend, Non-Binary Morality | Patton Sanders, heed the archive warning tis not only for the already dead characters, i got the malaise idea from the lockwood &amp; co. books, logan is uhhhhhhh also trying, platonic morolo my dudes!!, roman is uhhhhh trying</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:00:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,921</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25922788</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasionally_always/pseuds/occasionally_always</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan Thomas has a reassuringly normal life.<br/>Until a spirit appears in his bedroom at three in the morning, uncertain of everything but the fact that something called him there. Suddenly, Logan has to figure out how to adjust to something that he doesn't even believe in. And as Logan's reality changes, Logan is changing too, even as they try to figure out why Roman has taken up residence in the human world.<br/>Patton's there to help, though.<br/>(And Roman is growing on him.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anxiety | Virgil Sanders &amp; Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders (mentioned), Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders &amp; Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders &amp; Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Sleep | Remy Sanders (mentioned), Creativity | Roman &amp; Logic | Logan &amp; Morality | Patton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Such Ghosts [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881298</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was loosely inspired by a piece of art from tumblr, which I unfortunately have not been able to find again. I wrote this for Camp Nano last year...and it took me a year to get around to editing it-- but it's finally finished! I'll upload chapters pretty often. I have several ideas for what a sequel might look like, and I definitely hope to write one sometime in the future.<br/>I really appreciate kudos &amp; comments, including constructive criticism-- I'm much more used to writing one-shots, not so much longer fics like this. Also, please let me know if I've written anything in a way you don't think is accurate (like Logan's stutter, for example). Thank you for reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Logan first became aware that he was not alone when he woke up, at a bit past one in the morning, to a feeling of something being very, very <em>off</em>.</p><p>The logic he normally relied on from day to day was currently absent in the face of the tingling chill creeping up his spine. He suddenly felt extremely awake and extremely aware of the cool pillow against his cheek, the slight draft coming from the partially open window, and the silence that was filling the whole apartment and that suddenly felt quite heavy.</p><p>Then the humming began, close and cheery, and frighteningly out-of-place.</p><p>He'd been a vivid dreamer his whole life, often waking up with echoes of imagery, and whatever his mind had cooked up the night before following him through the day. So though his detailed dreams had admittedly never gone quite like this, it was now with a hopeful sort of skepticism that Logan Shea Thomas, twenty-one years old and studying biochemical engineering, forced open his eyes and reached for the light.</p><p>Nothing was there. Nothing was there but the usual light grey walls, the abstract painting, the compact cedar desk, and the bedside table, next to which sat the unfortunately dim lamp.</p><p>He started to sit up. A list of potential situations ran through his head: hostile intruder (the humming did appear to be coming from within his room, so someone could be hidden, though it's unlikely this was how they would wish to make themselves known)? Old friend visiting (a few hours past midnight was doubtful)? Neighbors on a musical kick right next to their shared wall (also doubtful, but the solution most likely to let him fall back asleep)?</p><p>"Hello?" Logan called, and that on-edge feeling worsened just a bit as the humming stopped. He started to question his sanity at this point, and when <em>something</em> started to take shape in the ray of light from the floor lamp, he squeezed his eyes shut and knew it had to be a dream, no matter that it didn't feel like one, no matter that his gut instincts had been reluctantly right in the past; this disembodied humming, this incorporeal phenomenon that had chosen his bedroom to stake its claim in, this whole experience needed to go away right now so that he could wake up properly and go about his day interacting with normal, explainable things.</p><p>"Hello," said the something, and two things hit Logan at once; one, that he was decidedly, unfortunately awake, and two, that nothing about this was going to be normal or explainable.</p><p>
  <em>Open your eyes. Sight could not fail you too terribly.</em>
</p><p>There was a figure, standing against the gray wall, presumably the hummer. Logan's eyes traveled over the white outfit and red sash, the swooping curls of hair, the chocolate eyes. Now he couldn't help the lingering fear that his sight really was accurate-- the thought of this being something supernatural was nudging its way into his mind, though he'd never believed in such before.</p><p>"Allow me to introduce myself! I am Roman, he and him please and thanks," said the figure.</p><p>Logan's mind stuttered to a complete halt.</p><p>The thing...<em>Roman</em> frowned. "Look, I know humans tend to ignore the existence of spirits, but you can at least say something."</p><p>Logan tried to blink away the surprise of the casual tone and modern diction. He felt frozen in his uncertainty.</p><p>"Hello? Is it the malaise? That's just from me crossing over, it'll go away soon. The planes don't like being mixed up and whatnot. Here, maybe I can--" The being made shooing motions with his hands, and somehow, whether it was placebo or not, that prominent unease he'd had since waking seemed to leave Logan. He caught his breath, his brain not quite catching up to all that was happening.</p><p>"I..." Logan started, but couldn't seem to get anything else out. He cleared his throat. "I really don't understand what's..."</p><p>The spirit flopped on the bed's end. Now that Roman was closer, he noticed more details-- the pierced ears, the crooked stitching of the outfit, the slight transparency to him that made everything seem just a bit more out of balance. Logan felt fear nudging into him again, but he shoved away thoughts of insanity and held onto hope that come morning everything would be normal again. Steadily, reassuringly normal.</p><p>"I was bored," complained the supposed spirit, and that hope started to fade. "And I needed a break from the stupid spirit world-- don't tell Rem I said that. And you have a Hamilton poster, which, like, yes. So here I am!" He tossed his hands up with an incomprehensible smile. "Hope you don't mind."</p><p>Logan's small bedroom was adjoined with the even smaller kitchen, and he turned his back on whatever the being was as he stood abruptly, walking into it and turning on the light, flipping the kettle on, pulling down a mug. <em>Breathe. Go through the motions.</em> The cool tile against his bare feet grounded him, and the familiar actions washed away a tiny bit of overwhelmedness.</p><p>The weight of the silence had begun to lift, very cautiously. If Logan was going to admit something to himself, it would be that familiar curiosity was now starting to tug at his fingertips, urging him to follow along, for now, with this potential delusion. Against his will, questions starting pushing their way into his mind, crowding ahead of the fear and uncertainty. Malaise, other spirits, multiple worlds...this was a trip of science fiction he had often acknowledged he wouldn't mind finding himself in.</p><p>Perhaps it was the product of the early morning and a sleepy mind, but he was tempted to let the curiosity out, just a bit, adrenaline starting to kick in and questions speeding through his mind. Could ghosts pass easily between the worlds? Were there only two worlds in existence? Was ease of travel between them limited to spirits?</p><p>His fingers curled tighter around the cool porcelain as he took a deep breath to choke the questions back. He was used to questions bubbling up in his chest, not so much to spilling them out at otherworldly creatures that only doubtfully existed.</p><p>"Te-tell me more," he said finally, the combination of lingering tiredness and stressful confusion releasing the stutter that rarely came out.</p><p>"I don't know a whole heckin' lot," sighed the spirit. "I died, things happened, you know." Logan glanced around to see him waving his hands around emphatically.</p><p>The so-called nerd stared down at the mug, a deep blue one that Patton had gifted him. <em>Patton</em>. The enby loved the idea of ghosts, of some sort of energy remaining behind even after death. Logan remembered his friend telling him about the death of their dog when they were very small, and keeping the belief that the dog was still around in some form or another close to their heart. Had Patton ever seen an actual spirit? If they could cross over so easily, wouldn't more believers have evidence?</p><p>As he poured steaming water over chamomile and peppermint, against his better judgement he dared to voice this, and a nervously large part of him wondered if a response would even come, or if he would turn and see nothing but an empty room. But Roman's voice came, and Logan tried to ignore the way his hands shook just a bit around the cup, as the being behind him explained that not many could see spirits in the first place.</p><p>"Why can I?" he muttered finally. In contrast to Patton, Logan had remained unmoving in his cynical opinions. He found it hard to have faith in things that did not have solid proof and clear scientific rational. It remained to be seen whether a one a.m. apparition fulfilled these requirements, but why it chose to show itself to someone with requirements at all was a mystery to him; if someone doesn't budge in their mindset, walk around them and spend your time with someone else, or so he had learned after one too many heated debates with homophobes. But perhaps this ghost hadn't yet learned that humans did not like to be wrong, that unbelievers would hate to believe, that his own mind had not yet fully processed what he was supposedly seeing.</p><p>Roman's shrug was casually infuriating. "You're probably just...closer to the spiritual world than others."</p><p>Logan raised his eyebrows. "As in, clo-oser to death?"</p><p>"Whoa, whoa, not necessarily! It's complicated, okay? And look, I didn't exactly get an instruction manual. Some things I picked up. Some were told to me. Mostly I just, you know, existed as the daring and dashing prince I am! Okay, this is an old theater outfit. But." Roman made some unintelligible hand movements to accompany his words.</p><p>Logan took a regrettably scalding sip of tea to try and soothe his whirling thoughts, but didn't succeed. He ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. He had to be insane to go along with this like it wasn't totally and completely illogical, but he couldn't stop-- couldn't just go back to sleep, couldn't shut down his curiosity, couldn't brush aside Roman as a hallucination, not until he was satisfied, at least; of what, he didn't know. The truth, maybe. Reality, whatever that was.</p><p>Logan turned, leaning against the counter as the spirit took a breath as though about to speak. He paused before starting again. "I'm real. It...it must be pretty hard to believe that. But I...I died and now I'm here. Something-- <em>tugged</em> at me. Like I was being told to come here!" He was twisting his hands together now, looking more distraught, but getting no response from Logan.</p><p>Logan's brain worked on <em>process, analyze, respond</em>, and the gears had been stuck in processing since Roman's appearance, tentatively making an attempt to understand and maybe even trust whatever was happening. But he'd never been good at trusting. He'd never even been good at casual conversation. He'd woken up and been plunged into a casually impossible scenario, and had responded before analyzing, curiosity and fear and doubt mingling and reworking consistently in his mind.</p><p>Roman flickered a bit, causing Logan to almost spill some of his tea before he took a breath to try and regain some sort of composure. Once corporeality was reobtained, Roman continued, in a tone that seemed to have a forced sort of confidence to it, "I can leave if you want me to. I can go, I'll find somewhere else to-- stay, you obviously weren't ready for a ghost of all things to turn up in your home, and it's a charming little home by the way, uh, in any case! You get what I'm trying to say, right?" His hands were back in motion, words constantly emphasized through his (admittedly seemingly faltering) energy.</p><p>Logan found himself starting to nod. If Roman left, things would go back to the normal and explainable. He could, perhaps, read for a bit before falling back asleep. He could wake up the next morning to his eight o'clock alarm and to the predictably grey skies that often filled Seattle and to a wonderfully and comfortably normal day. He could even pretend none of this had ever happened, if he so chose.</p><p>But, his one a.m. brain argued-- it was the kind of frighteningly impossible thing that would likely nag and wear at him for a long time.</p><p>But, a careful reminder contributed-- his curiosity would not ever let him fully and honestly hope for an empty room.</p><p>But, voiced a part of him that did not come out very often-- whether it was malaise or not, the silence might come back just as pressing as before.</p><p>His voice, though catching in his throat for a second, found its way into the air.</p><p>"Wait."</p><p>Roman glanced up, looking hopeful in a cliche and antagonizing kind of way, brown eyes catching Logan's blue in a way that made him start to think this could possibly be real. <em>Possibly</em>. It was an earth-shattering sort of possibly.</p><p>The tea, Logan thought distractedly, had probably cooled to a safe temperature by now, the cup not as hot in his hands, and he pulled out the strainer before lifting it to his lips in the faint and unreasonable hope that the motion might hide how deranged he was starting to feel. But he spoke anyway; "I'm Logan."</p><p>Roman gave him a smile that was blinding despite its translucency, and Logan stared firmly down at his tea, wondering what he had gotten himself into.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Patton time :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Light pressed against his eyelids and urged him to wake up. He fought back, but his alarm stubbornly wormed its way into his brain and he groaned as he reached blindly to silence it.</p><p>The beeping turned off. His mind turned on.</p><p>Logan shot up, automatically searching for his glasses with a hand as yesterday-- well, really just some hours ago-- caught up with him. As supernatural realizations and cooled tea and everything else crashed through him. Saying faintly "I'd better get to sleep now," and Roman temporarily fading. Tentatively turning out the light, pulling the covers over himself, and closing his eyes against the last hour and all the confusing emotions that had come with it.</p><p>"Nerd! You're awake!"</p><p>Logan was jolted out of his thoughts at the words of the manifestation currently leaning against a wall. It-- he-- <em>Roman</em>-- came into focus as Logan slid on his black-framed glasses. "Yes." He twisted out of bed and reached for his dresser. Work, at Cherry Street Coffee House, started in an hour and a half. "I'm going now."</p><p>"Well, okay, then," Roman spluttered.</p><p>Ten minutes later Logan was out the door, dressed in a black button-down shirt and jeans. He pulled on his jacket as he hurried down the steps and out onto the sidewalk, feeling weirdly eager to get some distance between him and the spirit. Thankfully, he would have time to stop by a bakery and pick up breakfast-- he could have gotten something at home, but waking up to Roman and all of one a.m.'s revelations had him on edge, and the apartment had felt suffocating, getting away from its weird phenomenon his first priority.</p><p>The bitter winter air reached through his jacket and tugged at his hair, and he crossed his arms over himself. He wanted to think about anything but the fact that there was now a ghost in his apartment.</p><p>And, he asked himself, since when had he accepted it as a fact? Since when had he moved past the processing stage? Since when had he decided to be <em>okay</em> with all this?</p><p>Logan shivered a bit, whether from the cold or his shuddering thoughts, he didn't know. He watched the sidewalk seem to move beneath his feet as he walked, letting himself become mesmerized by the shift of gray, accepting the distraction.</p><p>A flash of color suddenly swerved past him and someone cursed. Logan turned, startled, to see a bike cycling shakily down the sidewalk before the rider regained some balance. Feeling embarrassed, he called out "My ap-apologies," before continuing to walk, this time with eyes firmly fixed ahead of him.</p><p>His heart rate slowed after a few seconds, and his thoughts, unfortunately, turned back to Roman. He allowed his mind to stay on the topic only after shoving down his emotions about it-- the doubt, the distress. Emotions were too much trouble; they always had been. They hadn't served him well when he got his first crush, or when his friends talked to him for the last time, or when his mother died. They had betrayed him when he got to college, allowing happiness to take precedent over logic, and certain friends' disappointment in his sexuality to blindside him. They were of no use now, certainly. Analysis of the situation needed to remain uninterrupted.</p><p>Logan shoved his hands in his pockets, speeding up as he cross a street. Okay. There was a spiritual world. One of its inhabitants had manifested in his apartment. Why? It didn't quite seem to know.</p><p>How long was it going to be there? Well, what Roman had said about feeling a "tug" was intriguing. Something had...pulled him there. Therefore, he wouldn't-- or maybe <em>couldn't</em>-- leave until, perhaps, that something made itself known. Logan tucked this away as a potential hypothesis.</p><p>Next, Logan had allowed him to stay. This decision might be hard to reverse.</p><p><em>So, what are you going to do?</em> he asked himself. <em>What is your plan? </em>Plans were reliable. A plan meant a line he could walk, a clear path he could follow.</p><p>As long as he kept any emotions out of the way, Roman and Logan could theoretically coexist with some level of ease. Logan could be smart about the situation, now that he was not as sleep-deprived as he had been six hours prior.</p><p>He halted for a second, realizing he'd walked too far. Logan spun and retraced his steps back past Walgreen's, a bar, and a pizza place he'd been to once or twice with Patton before reaching the bakery and hurrying inside.</p><p>The warmth of the shop seemed to embrace him as he stepped inside, unintentionally releasing a sigh. It had felt colder than usual outside.</p><p>There were only a couple other people inside, and Logan ordered a scone and sat down, reaching for his phone to check the time only to realize he didn't have it with him. He glanced around to find a clock, knowing it would take him approximately twenty-five minutes to reach his work if he walked quickly, which gave him a little over half an hour here; not that it would take him that long to eat, but he usually tried to be overly conscious of punctuality. He tapped his fingers against the table as he ate, looking out the window and watching the people and the sky.</p><p>He felt very insane, all of a sudden. Had any of the people passing by experienced anything like he had today? But they all had their own stories, didn't they, lives equally as intricate as his own. They had their own confoundments, emotions, routines. And yet, somehow, they were all connected to each other, and each person interacted with others in a unique way. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to imagine what it would look like if it was drawn in lines of connection, an infinitely complex web, stretching all the way around the world; trailing between adjacent buildings, between countries, between people; woven anew with each turn of the earth and "rise" of the sun.</p><p>Logan opened his eyes with a jolt, reining his imagination back in. The scone was haphazardly shoved in its bag as he saw the time and stood, wondering how twenty minutes had already passed.</p><p>His walk resumed, thoughts growing less abstract. There were more people on the sidewalks now. Occasionally a shared laugh would pierce the air, or a shop door would swing open as the store started its day. Logan's thoughts had quieted down for once, and he mostly watched his breath disturb the chilly air or his feet keep their steady pace. Soon enough he turned onto Madison, the rest of the walk passing by fairly quickly until he reached the coffee shop.</p><p> </p><p>"Lo!" called a voice from the door, sounding out of breath. A few people looked around and the owner of the voice sheepishly giggled.</p><p>Logan looked up to see his friend waving avidly by the door. "Salutations," he called, conscious of the fact that he still had people waiting at the counter. Patton bounced up to him anyway, waiting until he had taken an order to start talking in their practically vivacious way.</p><p>"I called you a couple times but you didn't pick up so then I remembered you were at work, silly me, and I decided to stop by and say hi! I hope that was okay!" They looked a bit out of breath, cardigan slung over their shoulders as usual and dark frizzy hair held up in a pastel pink bandanna that matched the color of their shirt.</p><p>"Yes, of course." Logan grabbed a plate for a sandwich as Patton leaned against the display. "Patton, may I talk to you when my shift is over? Perhaps I can get us both a drink as well."</p><p>"Oh, whoops! Sure thing," they agreed, causing Logan to give a bit of a smile in return. He watched them settle at a small table before returning to the next customer.</p><p>Twenty minutes later, he took off his name tag with a sigh of relief. Nate, his relief, had flounced in with a "Yo" a quarter of an hour late, as usual. Logan brought two cups of hot chocolate to the table, and Patton grinned at him as they took theirs. "Thanks, bud."</p><p>He gave a nod before saying, "I had forgotten my phone, actually, I don't have it with me at all." He paused. "Thank you for coming in."</p><p>"Aww, of course, Lolo." Patton reached over the table to put their hand on Logan's. They looked a bit worried; had he said something wrong? Acted weirdly? Under the table, his fingers lightly tapped a steady beat against his thigh. He was starting to feel overwhelmed again, and realizing he had perhaps not gotten as much sleep as he should have, though Patton tended to have somewhat of an engulfing affect on him in general.</p><p>They were quite opposites, if he was being honest. Patton listened to their heart and was almost overly emotional; Logan based his actions for the most part on logic and reason, valuing thought and mind. They had first become friends only approximately two and a half years ago, after an incident relating to the aforementioned former friends. It was one of the only times in Logan's life he had felt truly shattered, lost only temporarily but in a way that seemed fundamental. And Patton's kind nature, as always, had shown through.</p><p>That was another difference between them. Patton Love was kind, genuinely kind. Sometimes Logan wondered how to be.</p><p>Now, whether it was from the lack of sleep or practically unbelievable recent events or just seeing Patton, he felt tears start to crawl up his throat and make his eyes water. The tapping picked up speed beneath the table. Logan took a drink of his hot chocolate and blinked a few times, feeling disquieted, at the wall behind Pat.</p><p>Their mouth twisted into an expression that he tried not to look at. He didn't need whatever this feeling was to be encouraged. The tears startled away, though, when they grabbed his hand all the way and stood up. "Let's go outside," they suggested.</p><p>It was no less cold outside than it had been earlier that morning. The sun made a split-second attempt to peek out at the world below it, but the gray chased it away again surely, as they walked a few steps from the shop's door.</p><p>"It looks like something's going on," Patton ventured. "Are you okay?"</p><p>"I don't know that I can t-talk about it" came out, before Logan's brain had quite caught up and he realized that the statement had potential to be misinterpreted in a hurtful way. "As in, I'm not sure the-there are even words."</p><p>Patton's expression was one of confusion, but they bent forward and hugged Logan.</p><p>Hugs from Patton were decidedly the best hugs. Logan couldn't help but lean into it a bit, and the teary feeling started to come back. He really needed to sleep.</p><p>"I better go," they said after a few seconds, withdrawing. "Dance is in an hour, and you know how I hate having to rush." He blinked, "Okay," then paused, feeling collected enough to look at his friend more closely. "Wait, Patton, how are <em>you</em>?"</p><p>Patton's response was not a negative one, and they didn't hesitate or anything before saying it; but the chirped "Great!" came a bit too quickly.</p><p>Logan tentatively reached out and put his hand in theirs. Physical contact, he knew, could be a source of comfort, especially for someone as affectionate as Patton. They almost looked surprised, but gave him a small smile that he, having known them well for long enough, knew to be genuine.</p><p>"I do really gotta go, kiddo," Patton admitted; Logan bit his tongue against the usual urge to correct both the grammar and the "kiddo," and nodded.</p><p>This was very likely in part due to the encounter with Patton, but the rest of the morning and afternoon, working at the coffee house and then walking aimlessly for a while for no particular reason, had an almost clearer feel to it; like not quite as much was happening, not quite as many thoughts jumbling in his head and not quite as fast. He walked home feeling slightly more okay with everything that had happened, even as he reached the apartment building where, at this point almost undoubtedly, a spirit would be waiting for him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW talk of death, existentialism</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The apartment was quiet when Logan returned at around 4:30 that evening. He found himself closing the door behind him softly; it almost felt as if the silence did not want to be disturbed. Then he shook the thought away and called out cautiously, "Roman?"</p><p>Quiet now broken, he picked up on the sounds of shuffling papers coming from the kitchen. His footsteps were muffled by the carpet as he walked across it after hanging up the jacket, but his shoes clacked on the tiles of the kitchen when he stepped into the entrance of the small space. Roman was leaning with his elbows on the counter next to the stove and scribbling something on a notepad Logan recognized as having come from his desk. The ghost looked up at the sound, becoming slightly more opaque and face turning from one of concentration to welcome. "He-ey! <em>¿Que pasa?</em>"</p><p>"What...exactly are you doing?" Logan ventured, taking in the variety of writing utensils scattered across the minimal counter space.</p><p>His fingers itched to reach out and organize the pens as Roman started, "I thought I'd write what I know about my dimension! You know, since you seemed curious about it. Hey, you know what I realized? I don't even know your full name!"</p><p>Logan realized for the first time that Roman and Patton were fairly similar, at least in how they spoke. Though Roman was much more dramatic while, in contrast, Patton's mannerism could be described as bubbly, they were both effervescent, even vivacious, emphasizing their words with gestures and clearly putting a lot of feeling behind what they said and did.</p><p>Logan realized for the first time that Roman and Patton were fairly similar, at least in how they spoke. Though Roman had a much more dramatic energy, and Patton's energy could be described as bubbly in contrast, they were both enthusiastic, effervescent even, emphasizing their words with gestures and clearly putting a lot of feeling behind what they said and did.</p><p>This contemplation halted when Roman gave him an expectant look. "Name..?" he prompted.</p><p>"Oh, my apologies. Logan Thomas." With some uncertainty, Logan held out his hand. Roman stared at it for a second before shaking it with some apparent amusement.</p><p>"Anyway," continued Roman, "here 'tis." He thrust out the notepad to Logan, who slowly accepted it and began to flip through. It wasn't so much a list or an explanation as a muddle of scribbled diagrams and lone bullet points. Only the occasional word stood out among the scrawling handwriting, and Logan pondered the significance of three messily labeled circles in the middle of the page.</p><p>"Do people lose their ability to write legibly when they die?" he asked dryly, mostly just to see how Roman would react, if he was being honest.</p><p>The spirit blinked. "Sorry, was that humour? Coming from you, who apparently wears ties as a regular fashion statement?"</p><p>Logan just raised his eyebrows and shoved the notepad back at him. Roman started to grin. "Okay, sorry!" he admitted. "I'll <em>try</em> to explain this stuff. At least one of us can read handwriting."</p><p>Logan leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms; inwardly, curiosity had started bubbling up. He felt as though he was walking a line between nervousness and excitement. It was the same feeling he had experienced upon stepping into his high school's huge science classroom for the first time, or when he had signed up for an astronomy course at the community college senior year. The knowledge that his world and understanding of it was about to expand.</p><p>Roman flung out his arm, the one holding the notes, dramatically. "<em>This!</em> The spirit world! An eerie place, brimming with death and lost souls! A--"</p><p>Logan coughed gently, attempting to keep down hysterical giggles.</p><p>Roman looked slightly put out, running his hand through his hair. He paused uncertainly for a few seconds. Logan tilted his head to the side a bit, watching him think. "Do... do you wanna just ask me some questions?" he finally voiced. "You probably had a lot last night. I can be dramatic, I know. I'll...stop." He had gotten quieter.</p><p>Logan's fingers started tapping on the counter, nails clacking against the marbled design before he realized what he was doing and pressed his hand to the surface to quell the habit. "I'd appreciate the chance to ask questions." He hesitated. He found he didn't mind the dramatics, really, but the words to articulate this felt guiltily out of his grasp at the moment.</p><p>"Well...shoot." Roman gave him finger guns, which he couldn't help but wince at.</p><p>His tapping resumed as he tried to think. Articulation had apparently not yet found its way to him. He felt his cheeks start to heat up as he tried to get back all the questions he had been thinking of when the spirit first appeared. He looked away for a second before looking back at Roman, who now seemed as though he were about to voice something, opening his mouth but lowering his eyes in silence after a moment.</p><p>"What?" Logan prompted, and Roman glanced back up, making eye contact. "Well. If you wanted, I could just talk about-- about what happened-- after I died." The words sounded like they were being forced out of his throat, and a frown tugged at Logan's lips before he responded.</p><p>"If you are comfortable with it, yes." He almost slipped into a scientific mindset, wondering if Roman's account would be representative or simply an anecdote that he shouldn't put too much stock into, before he reminded himself that this wasn't a research project; it was simply something that, as far as he was aware, no one had yet touched upon with any sort of accurate knowledge.</p><p>That did not, upon further reflection, feel any less impactful. It did not calm his tapping fingers. It did not stop a small chill from working its way down his spine when Roman started speaking, when the words "Well, obviously, I died, and then I sort of just woke up again" spilled into the air, into Logan's own apartment, into the middle of Seattle, Washington, in a country among dozens of other countries, all a part of a planet that spun, spun, spun around a star deep in the depths of the expanding universe.</p><p><em>Now</em>, he thought firmly, <em>is not the time to get existential.</em></p><p>But then again, how could he not? How could death be anything other than existential? How could the very concepts that were now being introduced into his life, and challenged what he had thought for so long, not give someone pause for thought? Life and death were surely justified means for contemplation.</p><p>Roman's words, however, didn't allow time for contemplation. Logan levered himself onto the counter, folding his hands under his thighs, and forced himself to stop thinking, to just listen.</p><p>"It was really gray," Roman continued, in a suddenly small voice. He took an audible breath. "I don't remember everything. But it was so, so gray."</p><p>"How--" Logan bit his tongue, the question having started to spill out almost involuntarily. He cleared his throat self-consciously. "Ap-apologies. Uh, how long ago did you die?"</p><p>The bluntness of his words made itself apparent to him only after he had spoken. Roman, however, did not seem to consider the question too rude, and shrugged. "A couple months. It was only now that I gave in to the tugging, though."</p><p>Logan found he wasn't very surprised at this. Roman's mannerisms were, though unique, not strikingly out-of-date. He gave a small hum in response before prompting, "So it was gray."</p><p>Roman was looking past him, clearly deep in thought, but his eyes refocused a second later. "Yes. And I had a thought, before I even realized I was dead-- I don't know how I remember this, but my first thought was that it looked like-- well, even felt like, uh, like all the life had been sucked out. Like all the color had just-- drained away."</p><p>The chills were back, and Logan found himself studying the face of the translucent person across from him. Roman's eyes had closed, his mouth tugging down on one side, a reflection of how Logan himself was starting to feel.</p><p>A moment passed in uneasy contemplation, standing there in the small kitchen as the fluorescent light washed their faces with a tinge of yellow, as the clock next to the window ticked along and as outside the window a very light rain began to fall.</p><p>Roman started abruptly. "Oh, I'm sorry," he exhaled, and Logan shook his head, having zoned out as well.</p><p>"It's fine."</p><p>They looked at each other for a second, something Logan could not place flashing across the other's face.</p><p>"I don't think I like death," Roman whispered. "I haven't...haven't said that before. But I don't like the gray. I hate seeing the other spirits, too, 'cause most of them are just as gray. They're not even-- they might as well not be there, they--" He took in a shudder of a breath, rubbed his fingers against his sash, looked away. Logan followed his gaze, noticing the gentle raindrops that had begun to cling to the windowpane. He waited for Roman to talk again, for more words to come about the world he hoped he would not see soon but found himself increasingly wanting to know more about.</p><p>The words came, quicker now, Roman still staring out of, or perhaps simply at, the window as he spoke. "Some of us are just like we were when we were alive, like Virgil, he's the one who I first saw, I mean, the first one that looked-- that didn't look dead. Same as me. There's no good way to describe it. Because we're all dead." His voice was getting just a bit shakier, a bit more forced, a bit louder in volume. "But then you think, well, my soul is still alive, it's only my body that's out of commission, really. And then you look at the masses of souls who've just <em>faded</em>, who aren't really there anymore, and you think about yourself, who wanted to die until he did and all that happened was a <em>different fricking dimension </em>and an outfit I'm stuck with forever and I don't even know what's happening half the time, I only know a couple things on a weird instinct and from what others have told me, and what the fuck does this universe want, anyway?" His hand was waving around frantically as the other clutched the counter, and he inhaled sharply, taking a half step back.</p><p>Logan closed his eyes tight in an attempt to push away the part of him that desperately wondered the same thing.</p><p>Because there wasn't going to be a scientific explanation for this, he was realizing. "<em>This is why</em>" wasn't going to come. The universe was going to keep expanding and this planet was going to keep spinning, spinning, spinning until it was swallowed by the sun, and he was going to be gone long before that happened, gone, apparently, to a world that held souls that would never know why.</p><p>"Logan?"</p><p>The inquiring word broke his thoughts broke off, but the break was jagged. He glanced up to see Roman staring at him.</p><p>"I'm sorry if I-- freaked you out. You sort of went quiet for a while?" Roman's half-question was hesitant.</p><p>"Oh." He felt slightly confused at this, slightly out of it, planets and stars still dashed across the back of mind. "I was under the impression it had just been a couple of seconds."</p><p>Roman's hands were twisting around each other now. "Let's, uh, let's stop talking about this, maybe, hey, what's for dinner?" His voice had gone up in pitch and had not slowed down.</p><p>"Dinner? You can't eat, can you?" said Logan, a bit numbly.</p><p>"Oh, well, yes. Sorry. I was trying to change the topic. I'm a stupid-head."</p><p>Logan took a second to collect his thoughts. "Okay. I'm-- I believe I was going to cook noodles for tonight." He opened the cupboard beneath the counter next to him to get out a pot, almost on autopilot.</p><p>"Should I go?" worried Roman. "I can fade out for a bit, anyway."</p><p>Logan blinked away the dredges of the previous conversation. "No, it's fine. You can stay if you like."</p><p>Roman didn't respond, but pushed himself up so that he was sitting on the counter, watching Logan fill the pot with water and turn the stove on. Outside, the rain grew heavier. Inside, the two beings stayed silent for now, forcing their thoughts to stay on the process of boiling pasta, and away from the enigma of the universe.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW food, mild burn injury</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"These are a little bit burnt on the bottom, but that's okay! It just means we have a crispy batch."</p><p>The cookies that Patton had just pulled from the oven made two neat, golden-brown rows on the baking sheet, which Logan took, with a nod of acknowledgement, to lever onto the cooling rack with a spatula.</p><p>Patton started humming as they twirled around the kitchen to grab more ingredients. Logan began to wonder exactly how many cookies they were going to be making, but decided not to question it. His friend was staying over until tomorrow, not for any particular reason other than wanting to spend time with him, apparently, and he was just glad of the time together. They weren't able to interact frequently outside of texting unless school wasn't being held, such as during the current winter break.</p><p>"Grab the flour for me, would ya? I <em>knead</em> it," Patton joked, and Logan rolled his eyes but had a small smile as he got down the bag of buckwheat flour and handed it over.</p><p>"Thanks, Lo! Hey, how do you make a baby computer cry?"</p><p>"I don't have an interest in the outcome of this joke, don't feel obligated to finish it."</p><p>"Delete his cookies!"</p><p>Logan almost choked as he tried to hold back a snort.</p><p>"Okay, so you got the dry ingredients for this batch?" they asked. Logan gave an affirmative and started measuring flour into the large mixing bowl as Patton cracked an egg against the edge of the stove.</p><p>Baking was something primarily enjoyed by Patton, but when they inevitably dragged Logan into their food shenanigans, he couldn't help but find it almost soothing. He begrudgingly appreciated the puns and the pastel aprons-- and they almost always ended up with Hamilton playing in the background. Logan had a habit of rapping under his breath, while Patton made attempts to sing the words he could remember.</p><p>The casual familiarity of the morning so far was in stark contrast to the day before, to the intermittent panicking and vague explanations and unearthly presences, and Patton's arrival had led Logan to somehow subconsciously relax. Roman's presence had not disturbed this, Patton remaining intriguingly oblivious to today's third occupant of the kitchen, and the dramatic narration coming from the corner of the kitchen was starting to feel oddly familiar. It was almost scary, how both Logan and Roman had already begun to adapt to each other, how in just one day the world seemed to have realigned itself without much trouble.</p><p>"Add more sugar," hissed a voice next to his ear, and he couldn't hold back a flinch of surprise. Patton's eyes flickered up to him for a moment before they went back to whisking in the butter without concern. He half-swiveled to see Roman now perched on the counter, swinging his legs. Logan shook his head minutely, beginning to reconsider his earlier evaluation.</p><p>"Please, please, please?"</p><p>Logan watched salt fill up the teaspoon before meticulously adding it to the bowl, ignoring Roman's chagrined huff.</p><p>The kitchen was light today, a low level of sun coming in through the window above the sink to add natural light to the small space. He glanced out the window to where cars were passing by almost methodically, watching them as he stirred, falling into a rhythm of <em>inhale</em>, stir the other way and <em>exhale</em>, and repeat.</p><p>"Lo, let's mix that in now, okay?" Patton reached for the bowl, not seeing Logan's frown at their unusually gentle tone. He passed it over and gave them an inquiring look.</p><p>Patton noted it with a "Hm?"</p><p>He didn't quite know the words to explain himself further, but tried, "Why did you say it that way?"</p><p>Patton tipped the egg mixture in slowly as they stirred it all together with a spoon in their other hand. "Oh, I'm sorry. You've just seemed a little off today. I didn't want to..." They were biting their lip now, and Logan tried to process what they were saying and determine a respond. He didn't particularly like it when Patton got worried, especially when it appertained to him.</p><p>He <em>had</em> been feeling..."<em>off"</em>, he realized, in a way he couldn't fully describe, like maybe a part of him had gotten stuck somewhere while the rest kept going, or a gear in his mind's framework was turning the opposite way of what it should be, but he tried to internally push away the metaphors and come back to the conversation. "You don't have to be cautious around me, Patton. And I'm fine." Logan was sure of that, at least; nothing was actually wrong.</p><p>He focused back on the cookies as Patton gave an "okay," taking the mixture and starting to scoop it in lumps onto the baking sheet. These ones were snicker-doodles, and Patton followed behind him with a bowl of a cinnamon sugar mixture, sprinkling an abundance onto each cookie. It was a process, a pattern, that they were both familiar with, Logan from when he had made the recipe with his mother years ago, Patton from when Logan had taught them on a snowy day the year before, and the both of them having baked these together several times now. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roman watching with apparent interest, and then flickering in an agitated sort of way as Patton accidentally slipped through him on the way to get a lid for the sugar mix, which was now almost gone.</p><p>Logan tugged open the oven door and reached to pull out the middle rack farther. A scalding flash of pain made his eyes squeeze shut and nausea shoot into his stomach, and he lurched back, biting his tongue as he frantically wrung the hand that had touched the rack. He kept his eyes shut as someone pulled his hand under running water, as a thud came from somewhere in the kitchen behind him, as Patton's voice berated him for not using an oven mitt.</p><p>"Are you okay, nerd?" He identified the voice as Roman's, to his left. "You made me fall off the counter, you know." Logan opened his eyes as he bit back what was sure to be a hysterical laugh. He let Patton drag him out of the kitchen and onto the small sofa. "I'm sorry, I'm alright," he breathed, to both of them. "I don't know why I did that."</p><p>"It's okay!" Patton was biting their lip as they sat down adjacent. They were still holding his hand, gently, and he looked down at it. His fingers were slightly red. They hurt, he noted absently.</p><p>"You lie down, okay, Lo? I'm gonna grab an ice pack." Patton stood up again.</p><p>"It's just my hand," Logan protested quietly, but started to lay back, feeling abruptly and unexpectedly worn out.</p><p>"I've got the cookies!" Roman disappeared back into the kitchen, perhaps forgetting that Patton would most certainly notice a baking sheet tucking itself into an oven. Logan pondered the fact that Roman could evidently control his level of corporeality in order to this as he closed his eyes again.</p><p>Roman apparently realized that any potential confused hysteria from Patton would not be worth putting in the cookies, as Logan could hear a muttered "Well, maybe not," from nearby. Then footsteps entered again and what felt like a damp, cool washcloth was placed on his hand. "I'm gonna take care of the cookies," Patton said, worry seeping through their voice. "You stay here, 'kay?"</p><p>Logan didn't respond, but wondered how Patton was so perceptive. Maybe they could feel what he had when he had first woken up to the ghost, the strange malaise. <em>Planes being mixed up</em>. That was how Roman had put it. Logan's mind contributed its own contemplation; <em>the lines between the dimensions becoming blurry</em>.</p><p>He didn't particularly like that thought. But he kept thinking, hand on his chest and head leaning awkwardly against the armrest, both a human and a ghost just a room away. He thought about the truth and how it wasn't really kind; how normally, learning new things was satisfying, a rush of happiness and a feeling like you had just a bit more control in the world, and how this hadn't felt like that at all. He thought about what Roman had said-- faded spirits and a whole world washed of color, and what a truth that was.</p><p>The sense of the world being realigned was quickly fading. Logan pressed his fingers into the corduroy of the sofa, then lifted them, then pressed again, a heavy sort of tapping. Everything was feeling heavy, the cool cloth on his hand that was now dampening the shirt beneath it, the clacking of objects being moved around in the kitchen, the thoughts in his head.</p><p>He slowed his breathing, counting with his taps to match up his inhales and exhales. And then he wasn't really thinking about anything much, and faded into sleep.</p><p>Logan's eyes felt sticky when he opened them. There was a lack of light in the room, which surprised him for a moment. He levered himself up. The washcloth wasn't there anymore, and the apartment was quiet.</p><p>He couldn't tell if Patton was still around or if they had left. Knowing them, they were likely still here, and he could see dim sunlight from the kitchen window that told him it couldn't have been very long.</p><p>A movement had him turning his head. Roman was leaning against the wall, appearing more transparent than he had earlier, and looking up at Logan. "Hey." He sounded almost confused. "I just sort of realized I don't mind you. I think I like being here."</p><p>"Okay," said Logan distantly, unsure of how to respond to Roman's apparent internal crisis. "Where's Patton?" He winced internally after he said it. "Excuse me-- I mean, I like you being here too." And that was true, wasn't it, he mulled.</p><p>"Logan?" Patton came into the doorway from the bedroom. "What did you say? Sorry, I was reading for a bit."</p><p>Logan shook his head. "Nothing. My hand feels better, thank you."</p><p>"We probably should have put it in water for longer," Patton said sheepishly. "I looked it up. But if it feels better, that's good, right?" They smiled at him.</p><p>"Yes. I'm okay, Patton," he added, "in general, not just my hand. You seem to have been worried about me. I'm...okay."</p><p>They paused, before their smile got a bit wider. "I'm glad. Sorry, I just had such a strong feeling that something was off."</p><p>"It's okay." Logan couldn't help a glance at Roman, who didn't look like he had any answers, but judging by the way he was staring off into space, didn't seem to have been listening either. Logan made a mental note to ask him, later, just how spirits being in the human world affected said humans.</p><p>"The cookies taste good!" Patton levered himself up to perch on the other armrest, adding sheepishly, "I might have had a couple."</p><p>Logan levered himself off the couch. "Maybe I can try one." He stepped to the light switch and flicked it on, blinking a couple times at the sudden brightness in the room. Patton came up beside him and took his hand, walking with him into the kitchen. "Sounds good," they giggled, "I'll have to get one with you."</p><p>A smile reached Logan's face. "You have quite the affinity for cookies."</p><p>"i don't know what that means," admitted Patton. Logan bit back the part of him that wondered how they couldn't know, the same part that got excited at good marks on exams and thought oddly of people who didn't. It was a pretentious part that he didn't really like.</p><p>"It means..." He thought for a second, tugging off the saran wrap that was covering a plate of snicker-doodles on the counter. "That you like them." It wasn't the most expansive explanation, but Patton didn't seem to mind, reaching for a cookie on top and biting into it, looking thoughtful.</p><p>Logan took one for himself and walked back out of the kitchen. Patton dashed past him and flung themself on the sofa, grinning at him, and he smiled back, going to join them before hesitating.</p><p>Roman was still staring at the opposite wall, arms folded across his knees. Logan glanced at Patton before walking over and sliding down the wall next to the spirit. Patton's expression held only a split second of confusion before they folded their legs and kept eating their cookie.</p><p>Roman turned his head, seeing Logan, and gave a smile. Logan crossed his legs, leaned back against the wall, and smiled back.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The door thumped shut behind Patton as they left to pick up Chinese food for an early dinner. Logan glanced up at the sound, only half-listening to his current conversation. "Excuse me, I didn't hear that," he admitted, looking away again.</p><p>"I asked how the workload was," came his father's voice, slightly tinny through the phone speaker.</p><p>"It's alright." These calls always went the same, and Logan wiped down dishes with a sponge as they talked, his attention split indifferently. "I'm glad to have a break from P-Chem. Statics has been interesting."</p><p>"Yeah? That's cool. Have you met anyone new?"</p><p>That question wasn't unusual either. If Roman had been close by as opposed to the bedroom, where he was allegedly looking through Logan's collection of vinyl records, and had asked, Logan would have told him it was overprotective parenting, which was essentially the truth; however, he probably would not have elaborated on how it stemmed from Logan's tendency to cut himself off from people after his mother's heart attack, how Patton was the first close friend he'd had since eleven years old. But Patton was enough, anyway.</p><p>"Not really." Logan swung open the cupboard and stacked a couple dishes on the bottom shelf. It was the first time that this response wasn't entirely true, Roman being the (somewhat peculiar) deviation.</p><p>The cupboard door swung closed loudly, startling even himself. "You good?" asked his dad, and he nodded, but his thoughts were gathering around Roman now, around how he was actually starting to like the-- the ghost, around why he was even letting himself feel that way. This conversation had inadvertently reminded him of one of his main internal rules: don't get too close.</p><p>Patton had been the exception. The thing was, emotions tended to get in the way of the rule, and Patton had a way of making emotions seem alright, and the next thing Logan had known they were texting and talking together and he had a best friend.</p><p>And now Roman was a part of it all, a very...abnormal part. And Logan couldn't tell if he was glad the rule had been broken in this case.</p><p>The positive side, he realized wryly, was that Roman couldn't die on him.</p><p>"Logan?"</p><p>"Oh, I'm sorry. I was thinking." Of course the nod had been ineffectual.</p><p>"You always are," his dad chuckled.</p><p>"Gee Mary Poppins, what's going on in here?" Roman was in the kitchen now too.</p><p>Logan picked the phone up from the counter. "I'm going to go now. I love you."</p><p>"Love you too. Bye, teach."</p><p>He ended the call, smiling just a bit, before turning to Roman. "Forgive me if I misheard, but did you use Mary Poppins as a swear?"</p><p>"I love Disney," murmured Roman, leaning against the doorway.</p><p>Logan shook his head and turned on the faucet to rinse the rest of the dishes from breakfast and lunch. "While you're here, would you mind being productive and putting some of these away?" He handed a bowl back to Roman, who took it tentatively.</p><p>The cell phone rang again, and Logan tapped it with one of his only dry fingers to answer. "Hello?"</p><p>"Hey, Lo! They got one of the orders mixed up, they fixed it and all but I wanted to check you ordered the vegetable coconut curry and the white rice?"</p><p>"My mamá used to make the best rice dish," sighed Roman.</p><p>Logan spared him a raised eyebrow for interrupting. "Yes, thank you, Patton. See you soon."</p><p>"See you!"</p><p>He turned back to Roman, who, as far as he could tell, was trying to start a conversation. "What did it taste like?" he tried begrudgingly.</p><p>"Oh, it had garlic and tomatoes, and a lot of other spices. I liked it best when she added cilantro." A smile was stretching across Roman's face, lighting it up in a way it hadn't been the last two days. "The recipe was passed down from her mom and her abuela. She taught me how to make it, too. When she thought I was a girl."</p><p>Logan took a moment to imagine how the rice must have tasted with the different spices. He wondered, briefly, if Roman would ever agree to making the rice for him to try, before realizing he didn't actually know the extent of Roman's physical capabilities and control and it might be impossible to do.</p><p>He didn't know much at all about Roman, really. This couldn't be considered surprising, for someone who had barely been around more than a day, but the someone in question was living with him, supposedly now established in his life. He tried for another question; "Where did you used to live?"</p><p>Roman looked almost surprised at his words, but the smile was still there. "I lived here, believe it or not. In Seattle."</p><p>"That's interesting." Logan finished with the dishes and took the bowl from Roman's hands, where he had evidently forgotten about it.</p><p>"I was going to go to college down in Oregon, though," Roman continued. "With my boyfriend. And I was going to major in theater."</p><p>"<em>That's</em> surprising," Logan said dryly, the sarcasm unfamiliar on his tongue but, he was finding, enjoyable.</p><p>Roman gave an abrupt laugh, running a hand through his hair. "I actually didn't know if I'd remember this stuff. I was worried I'd forget, like all the other spirits who had been dead too long."</p><p>"The...the grey ones?" Logan said, almost hesitantly, watching Roman nod in response.</p><p>The conversation had trailed off, and Logan reached for what he usually did when he was uncertain of what to do-- "I'm going to go read, just until Patton gets back."</p><p>"Okay, teach!"</p><p>Logan raised his eyebrows at the familiar nickname coming from Roman's mouth. "Please don't."</p><p>"Ye-eah." Roman drew out the word, waving at him as he stepped out.</p><p>He curled up on the sofa and finished two chapters of his book before he got a weird feeling, a sort of instinct like the one when he had woken up to Roman, like the ones that before all this, he had easily brushed aside. Now, he just looked up at the clock and noted that Patton should have been back by now.</p><p>He set the book aside, unsettled, and picked up his phone. It rang and then went to Patton's voicemail.</p><p>"Roman?"</p><p>"Yeah?" Roman faded into view, lying in the middle of the floor and staring up at the ceiling like he had been deep in thought.</p><p>"How long have you been there?"</p><p>"I don't really know. Why?"</p><p>Logan decided he was getting sidetracked. "Patton is not back. I feel like something might be wrong." He took a moment to reflect on the fact that he was talking with a ghost about a feeling; the ease of it almost scared him, but worry was wrapping itself further and further up his spine, and he hit the call button for Patton's number again. "It's been half an hour."</p><p>"I wouldn't get too worried," Roman advised.</p><p>"I feel like something's wrong," repeated Logan, frowning as it went to voicemail again. "Or maybe not <em>wrong</em>, but at least not right."</p><p>Roman closed his eyes. "Yeah, I'm starting to tune into that too."</p><p>"So it's a..." Logan was struggling for words. Maybe there weren't any. He relied on words, trusted them, and over the course of two days he had been faced with several happenings that took them away altogether. "A thing."</p><p>"I guess." Roman sat up and stretched. "I mean, maybe not. No, I'm not really feeling it any more."</p><p>"So was it just your inner angst filling the room?" Logan found himself starting to get annoyed now. He stood and paced to the front door.</p><p>"You're getting more sassy every hour." The spirit flounced towards the bedroom and disappeared. Logan bit back a sigh, leaning back against the door and rubbing his forehead.</p><p>He stumbled forward as it opened on him, Patton pushing through it with a bag on their arm. "Hey, kiddo," they greeted him, moving to the counter to set everything out.</p><p>"Oh, hey," Logan said, the worry shrinking down again, and he shoved the other feeling, of something being not quite right, back down too, since it wasn't leaving on its own. He helped Patton spread out the food on the floor like a picnic, a tradition between them; later they would lay out blankets there too, so that they wouldn't have to split to the bed and the couch respectively. Logan ate slowly and listened to Patton's chatter about what they had been doing that week.</p><p>He found himself relaxing fairly quickly a few hours later when they went to bed. He wasn't sure where Roman was, but the spirit appeared to spend quite a bit of time casually faded out, and it didn't seem like a cause for concern. Patton was right next to him, blanket bunched around them and glasses haphazardly placed next to Logan's own just ahead of their pillows.</p><p>Logan fell asleep fairly quickly, too. And not unusually, his dreams were visual, clear, vivid.</p><p>And grey.</p><p> </p><p>He was walking along a road, buildings stretching on either side, but he couldn't see them, not really, because their colors were achingly obscured, fog draping across the gaunt outlines.</p><p>He kept walking, he knew he was walking; but nothing changed, or maybe he just couldn't see any of it well enough to know if it had or not. He was so close to it all, but he couldn't see, the fog was everywhere, and he couldn't hear either; his footsteps made no sound.</p><p>No one else showed themselves to him. Maybe that was what was missing. Because <em>something</em> was, he was sure, something intrinsic that should be there but wasn't any more.</p><p>He thought, all of a sudden, that maybe that something was him.</p><p> </p><p>Logan lurched up, catching a corner of his blanket with a fist as it fell off of him, and feeling cold enough that he then grabbed the other corner too and wrapped it around him as much as he could without disturbing Patton, who had stretched out in sleep and was now laying across a good portion of it.</p><p>He caught his breath, forcing it to quiet down and himself to lay back onto his pillow.</p><p>The grey pressed into his closed eyelids. He sat back up, and then slowly attempted to stand without startling Patton awake. He padded softly into his bedroom, shivering a bit, and whispered, "Roman?"</p><p>A glint, at the end of his bed, told him Roman had likely just manifested into corporeality, though he couldn't see the spirit clearly without his glasses. He cautiously sat on the edge, near the headboard. His words came out in a shaky exhale. "I believe I had a dream about the-- your-- world."</p><p>He heard and felt Roman shifting on top of the mattress, which was bare of the blankets that had been relocated to the main room's floor. "<em>I </em>don't know what to tell you," the spirit said, sounding vaguely perplexed. "Was it just a regular dream?"</p><p>"That is what I wanted to know."</p><p>"Virgil would know," he sighed. "Virgil knows everything. I wish I knew everything."</p><p>"Keep your voice quiet," said Logan tartly, not in the mood for rambling statements at this time of night; admittedly, he usually wasn't. "Can Virgil not... come over here too?"</p><p>There was a pause. Logan shut his eyes tiredly, not really able to see much at all with them open anyway, without his glasses.</p><p>"I told you I felt drawn here," ventured Roman, though his words weren't fully comprehensible through the filter of Logan's exhaustion. "Virgil doesn't. So he can't come here. It's weird, how it works. But I can't go back, either."</p><p>Logan felt too tired to say any more. He stood up without responding and felt his way back into the living room, sitting down heavily on the blanket pile and likely narrowly missing Patton. He curled into himself, dragging the blanket over him, and despite not yet feeling fully warm, he managed to fall asleep and stay asleep, no further dreams coming to him.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patton's smile had a little tug at the corner, a tell that they weren't quite doing okay.</p><p>Logan hovered uncertainly. They had seemed okay yesterday, but he couldn't help but remember the interaction outside of the coffee shop, which had let on more than Patton likely wanted him to know; in spite of their emotional intelligence, they tended to repress their own negative feelings. This was not something he was unfamiliar with himself, admittedly.</p><p>Patton was biting at their lip now, as they listened to Logan talk about a paper he had due in two weeks. He paused, and then ventured, "How are you?"</p><p>"Good." Their reply was soft, and they followed it, at a considering look from him, with, "I've been helping taking care of my brother."</p><p>"Is he okay?" Logan asked hesitantly, then, "Which one?" Patton was the eldest of four children, raised by working parents, and though they were the only one Logan had met, he had heard about the rest of their family often enough.</p><p>"Yeah, Levi just has a stomach bug. Nothing to worry about!" The smile was back, and genuine, but Logan dug further.</p><p>"And you?"</p><p>"What do you mean, Lo?" They were back to biting their lip.</p><p>"You've been taking care of him, so have you been taking any time to yourself?"</p><p>Patton picked up a corner of the blankets they were sitting cross-legged on and rubbed it between their fingers as they responded, voice nervous. "I'm here right now, right?"</p><p>"But time <em>by</em> yourself?" Logan tried. "You're an introvert, yes?"</p><p>"Wait, what? No, I'm not," Patton giggled. "I love being around people, you know that. Aren't you the introvert here?"</p><p>Logan considered how to explain what he was thinking. "Yes, but after you spend time around people, you get--" He started again. "Do you get energy from being alone, or interacting with others?"</p><p>Patton hesitated. Their eyes closed, as Logan knew they did when thinking. "Being alone, I think. Isn't that how everyone is?"</p><p>"No," Logan said. "Extroverts--" He halted abruptly as he caught sight, behind them, of Roman pacing quickly back and forth in his bedroom.</p><p>"What?" Patton nudged him.</p><p>"Oh." He refocused on them, or tried to, anyway. "Yes. So for you, being around others can actually drain your energy. That's how it is for me too." He had certainly observed this in Patton often enough.</p><p>"Huh," they pondered. "Okay."</p><p>"So take time to yourself sometimes, okay?" Logan felt marginally awkward giving advice, like the two of them had reversed roles.</p><p>"Yeah." They paused, tilting their head at him. "And you're doing okay?"</p><p>Logan responded automatically. "Yes."</p><p>They watched him, quietly, allowing him a moment to wonder how true it was, how okay he <em>really</em> was with everything that had just happened in his life. Without the whole paranormal thing? He was honestly doing fine.</p><p>Now? He didn't know.</p><p>He <em>didn't know</em>. It was like an exhale.</p><p>Patton crashed into him suddenly, hugging him tight, and he released a sharp breath, hugging back. It took him a second to realize they were crying, body shaking slightly, and he held them tighter, closer, knowing they needed it right now.</p><p>"I'm sorry," they said into his shoulder, and then leaned back and wiped at their eyes and nose with the sleeve of their grey cardigan. "Sorry," they repeated.</p><p>"It's okay."</p><p>"I guess I have been pretty overwhelmed," Patton admitted. "I can't just stop taking care of my family, though, or stop talking to friends. And I love them all. I <em>love</em> interacting with them." Their voice was unsteady.</p><p>"Patton, that's okay." Logan felt like he was saying <em>okay</em> a lot. "Just take care of yourself."</p><p>"You too," they sniffled. "Hey, is it okay if I go for a walk or something? Maybe I can pick us up some coffee somewhere."</p><p>"Tea, please," smiled Logan.</p><p>"Right!" Some of Patton's former cheer was already back, and Logan marveled at their consistent brightness.</p><p>He aimed to head to the bedroom right after they left, but paused at the couch, halted at the revelation that, evidently, Roman had become one of his priorities just as Patton was-- Roman, who existed, but only if one didn't think too much about the definition of the word <em>exist</em>.</p><p>He stopped the thoughts there, moving in front of Roman, who was still pacing. The spirit looked up. "Hey."</p><p>Logan didn't say anything for a moment, moving to sit on the bed.</p><p>"I have to spill all my secrets to you now?" Roman's eyebrows were raised.</p><p>Logan stepped back quickly. "No, I'm sorry."</p><p>Roman looked regretful. "No, sorry. I just can't figure out why I'm here. It's got me feeling less than glittery."</p><p>Logan smoothed a wrinkle in the mattress beside him. "What do you mean?"</p><p>"Why I was called to this apartment. To this <em>world</em>," he added, thoughtfully.</p><p>"So you were-- called?"</p><p>"That's the only way I can think of to explain it." Roman looked frustrated.</p><p>A question that had been tugging at the edge of Logan's mind came further to the surface. He hesitated before asking, uncertain if Roman would want to move away from this topic or not, but he couldn't deny this particular curiosity. "Who exactly is Virgil, by the way?"</p><p>Roman looked slightly startled at the subject change. He sat down next to Logan. "He's one of the first ones I met after I died. He..." He paused. "He's been dead...maybe four years. He's a bit faded at the edges. Oh, I should say they. Virgil's genderfluid, they were just a guy last time I saw them," he continued. "They're really emo. But cool." Roman's voice was grudging. "I'd call them a friend, I guess."</p><p><em>Faded at the edges</em>. Logan couldn't have said why that unsettled him, but it did, and he blinked at the subtle chill it gave him.</p><p>"Are there other spirits you know?"</p><p>Roman's mouth twisted into a thoughtful expression. "There are new spirits every day. But it's a big place." He laughed. "I don't think it has an end. I don't think it has edges like you would define edges. Sometimes I think the realm itself is made up of the spirits who've become so grey and faded they just don't have shapes any more. It's like a cycle of the recently dead and the ones who've been dead for ages, except it's more like a vacuum." His voice was rising up and down in pitch as he talked, a slight accent bleeding through the edges of his words.</p><p>Logan stayed quiet.</p><p>"So me and Virgil stick together," Roman shrugged. "I feel like-- you're going to call me stupid, but I feel like it keeps us sane. And like we might take longer to forget ourselves because we have each other. This does sound stupid."</p><p>"It makes sense."</p><p>Roman was staring at the wall again, and then turned to him after a few seconds. "Sorry, where was I?"</p><p>"You were just talking about the spirit-- place," Logan said slowly. "You...zoned out."</p><p>Roman appeared to think about this for a second. "I'm still tied to the spirit world," he said hesitantly, presumably by way of explanation. "It's like I-- part of me is always there. It's...weird. I know that doesn't really explain it, but--" He made a few motions with his hands, presumably to elaborate his point. "That's why I zone out or whatever."</p><p>Logan tapped his fingers on the edge of the mattress as he contemplated this. His mind gnawed at the edge of the thought that perhaps it was only a part of Roman that was <em>here</em>, and the rest of him was back in that other world.</p><p>The door opened, and Patton's voice called out, "I just remembered they're closed on Sundays!" Their voice was almost a jolt to him, breaking him out of his thoughts. They leaned into the bedroom to smile at him.</p><p>He had a jarring second where everything seemed a bit two-dimensional, like he was looking at the world through a camera lens.</p><p>Then he shook it off internally, sparing it only a mild thought before engaging with Patton.</p><p>They left a few hours later, after a hug good-bye that felt more reassuring to Logan than he would have thought it would. He sat down on the couch with his laptop, in an effort to get some work done on the paper.</p><p>The two-dimensional feeling was back. After about fifteen minutes of attempting to work on it, he gave up and opened a new tab, hesitating, watching the cursor blink, before typing in "<em>things dont feel right.</em>"</p><p>It was too vague, of course, and he gave the results only a glance before erasing the query.</p><p>
  <em>"things dont feel real"</em>
</p><p>There was a hotline for abuse disorders, for whatever reason, and then an article on depersonalization. He was fairly sure he wasn't experiencing a panic attack, and the description of it seemed almost too intense. The page he was on mentioned derealization, which, when searched, made hardly any more sense for him, and there was nothing he could think of that would have brought it on.</p><p>Logan thought, for a moment, that the perceptual perplexity could be related to the fact that he could see Roman, that his sudden cognizance of things from that other dimension was beginning to influence how he saw his own, that perhaps Roman's presence was forcing his mind to tune in more to the spirit world.</p><p>And perhaps-- he opened a new document, beginning to vaguely type up his thoughts-- there was an end to how much someone could "tune in," to the level of perception that could be extended across worlds, and that's why he was starting to feel like he wasn't quite there, like it wasn't quite real, like <em>he</em> wasn't quite real.</p><p>This sudden introspection began to alarm him. It was making him think of Roman, how the spirit seemed almost stretched between two worlds.</p><p>It wasn't a thought he really liked.</p><p>He looked up from his computer, remembering a grounding technique Patton had told him about once.</p><p>
  <em>5 things you can see.</em>
</p><p>There was the door to the bathroom, grained wood with a yellow tint. There was a thin vase on a stand on the opposing wall, a few iris stalks drying up within its blue glass. There was his bed, through the door to the bedroom, though he couldn't see Roman on it anymore. There was a pair of shoes next to the front door. He looked up to count the ceiling light as the fifth object.</p><p>He felt-- calmer.</p><p>
  <em>4 things you can feel.</em>
</p><p>The couch beneath him. His hair, edging across his face, falling from the clip he had put in it that morning. <em>What else?</em></p><p>Then it felt-- all in a rush and before he could finish the exercise, almost as if something had shifted into place-- it felt normal again.</p><p>Logan tapped his fingernails lightly on his keyboard, filing the experience away in the back of his mind before forcibly turning his attention away from things he didn't yet understand, and back to the reassuringly simple matter of his school paper.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW talk of death/suicide mention</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A thud resounded through the room as Roman kicked the wall again. "I hate this."</p><p>Whenever Logan became frustrated, it was the sort of frustration that started out quietly, deep in the pit of his stomach. It would get louder, though, and bubble up until it overflowed, until he took it out on something. It was the sort of frustration he tried to shove down until it went away, though that endeavor was usually unsuccessful.</p><p>Roman, on the other hand, seemed to be the type of person whose emotions spilled out consistently and constantly. And this was why Logan had come home from work to find him furiously ranting to himself, pacing more quickly than the previous day, and every so often taking out his frustration on whatever happened to be around him.</p><p>"Please take a breath," Logan advised.</p><p>"But I hate this," Roman gasped, sounding startlingly close to tears.</p><p>Logan wished, not for the first time, that everyone functioned like he did, that people would strive to capture their emotions in explanations composed of reasoned words, that Roman would talk to him about what was running through his mind instead of being endlessly, frustratingly vague.</p><p>"Logan, I can't--"</p><p>But maybe, Logan thought, Roman's frustration was the sort that short-circuited him, that stole his words away. Logan was familiar with that sort too, with the kind of emotions that had the strength to take one's breath and words and voice.</p><p>"Breathe, Roman," he tried, attempting to clear his own mind as well, to put his focus on the person in front of him.</p><p>Roman let out a loud exhale, slumping onto the couch and into himself. "Sorry," he muttered.</p><p>"What is happening?" Logan knew he didn't need to delve into this, didn't need to push Roman for an answer, but the curiosity about it was not going to go away, and he gave in to it as he generally did.</p><p>Roman took a shaky breath in, his arms folded around himself. "I just-- don't understand why-- why I had to--" He flung his arms out suddenly, to the ceiling or maybe to whatever was beyond it. "I can't even die right. I've ended up back in the living world and I don't even know why." If anger was fire, Roman's voice make it sound like it would be curling the edges of his words into ash. "And even if I wasn't here right now, I'd be stuck in a place that <em>leeches</em>-- that--"</p><p>Something was stuck in Logan's throat, something that didn't go away when he swallowed, something that was teaming up with the uncertainly queasy feeling that had started building in his stomach to create what he was fairly sure was empathy.</p><p>Something else was stuck there too, a question, one he was hesitant to ask but that had lodged itself in the front of his mind and the back of his throat. He held it back.</p><p>"I'm sorry, Roman."</p><p>"Thank you," he admitted. "I'm sorry for venting."</p><p>The question spilled out. "How did you die?"</p><p>The room was silent, except for Logan's question echoing around his head, mixing with a sudden vague regret.</p><p>"Took some pills."</p><p>There was another second of silence, of Logan being unsure about how to respond and watching Roman's fingers dig into his thighs.</p><p>"It was on purpose," he added, and Logan nodded, because a heavy weight was now making its home inside of him at the words, an emotion that had that sort of strength to take words away. He tried to imagine, briefly, what Roman's own current emotions were. He couldn't.</p><p>The something in his throat hadn't gone away. He stood up, paced to the opposite wall, folded his hands together and stared at the blank texture of the off-white plaster.</p><p>When he turned back around, he thought a few moments later, he couldn't see Roman anymore.</p><p>He forced himself to take a breath, and grabbed his phone from the kitchen counter, and took his coat down from the hook by the door, and stepped outside. The pressure inside of him felt like it began to press against his eyes, tears threatening to spill.</p><p>Its release came in the form of a sob, as he sat down heavily on a bench along the sidewalk. He muttered a curse under his breath, and for a reason he wasn't totally sure of, unlocked his phone and texted Patton.</p><p>He could feel the tears leaving streaks down his face that bit at him with the influence of the chilly day. He couldn't have said why he was crying, why that weight had pressed down on him, why an admission from someone he hardly actually knew had caused him to be the most emotional he had been for a long time.</p><p>He closed his eyes for several minutes. For once, words weren't spilling through his brain. It was weird, he reflected, to exclusively <em>feel</em> for a moment, instead of having thoughts and ruminations and questions consistently gathering.</p><p>When he looked up at the sound of someone's boots hitting the sidewalk as they walked past him, thinking fleetingly that it might be Patton, and wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his fleece jacket, things felt off again, in that way becoming familiar to him over the last few days. Uncertain, and mildly lacking depth. Logan tried to ignore this variation in perception and succeeded well enough.</p><p>He checked his phone after another couple moments, Patton still not having arrived. There weren't any new messages, and he realized it was very likely they were simply busy. There was no guarantee they would see his text in the immediate future, or that they would break away from whatever they were currently doing to seek him out at a vague plea.</p><p>Then someone plopped down beside him, and before Logan looked fully up at them he could see the crocs and brown skin and khaki pants and pastel shirt that told him it was Patton. They had a small smile, as they usually did, and it didn't go away even when he didn't manage to get any words out.</p><p>Patton placed a hand on his leg. "Hey, Lo," they said, and words suddenly came easily, the lump in his throat no longer there, with only a few belated tears to mix up what came out of his mouth, only a few stray emotions to give his sentences a bit of a stutter, but he couldn't stop talking as his fingers tapped in agitation.</p><p>"There is a ghost, Patt-Patton, he lives in my apa-apartment. He is staying the-ere, anyway, and I have not told you because, because I do-on't know why, and I am very confused, and I think, well, he told me, sort of, no, he did, that he completed suicide, and I don't know why I fe-el so-- so <em>much </em>about this, and I do not even know how-how I began to believe he exist-t-ted. I think he is my friend, I can't tell, it's only been three days, or ma-aybe more, I can-cannot remember." He felt as though he was babbling more than Roman had been earlier, but vocalizing this was helping him to sort it out for himself, even if he was laying out the situation to someone who likely was not understanding any of this.</p><p>Patton's face was twisted in confusion, and they looked practically distraught. Logan felt worse than before. He was emptying his soul onto Patton, and giving them information he himself had not known what to do with when he had been confronted with it, and now they weren't smiling any more.</p><p>"Okay, Logan," they said after a moment, "I'm going to need you to slow down." Their voice was calm, at least on the surface. "I think this has more of an explanation than you're giving me."</p><p>"I'm so sorry." Logan's voice edged on breaking, and he again thought back to when Roman and he had had a similar interaction, in reversed roles. "I dumped that on yo-you without any context."</p><p>"Everyone needs to vent sometimes, buddy," said Patton, almost as though they were trying to reassure him. He had to admit that it was working, his breath slowing from a speed he hadn't noticed it was at, his frantic tapping continuing but beginning to find a steady rhythm against his thigh. "I'm glad you're getting this out."</p><p>"You're a very good friend, Patton," he faltered. It was something he generally did not voice out loud.</p><p>"Okay. Now what are you saying about a ghost?" Patton's eyes searched his, and he couldn't blame their confusion, their hesitation.</p><p>Logan's explanation was mostly certainly not at its full potential. He cautiously recounted events, and dived into his own confusion at it all, and Patton's face had not changed.</p><p>They reached for his hands, and he held them out, feeling their cool fingers fold on his, and they said, quietly, "Okay. Okay."</p><p>He wanted to thank them, for listening, perhaps, for just remaining here instead of getting up and leaving, but he felt like his ability to smoothly speak had decided to stutter to a halt.</p><p>"There's a ghost-- a spirit. It's in your apartment." Patton's words were reminiscent of Logan's own habit of methodically going through things. His breath came shallowly as he listened, waiting for the part that led to Patton walking away. "Ghosts are real."</p><p>"I thought you already knew th-that," Logan said, voice not sounding quite like it usually did.</p><p>"I believed it," Patton agreed. "For me, at least, that's different from knowing it. But now I do know."</p><p>They were being very calm, almost in a detached sort of way. Logan thought it might be shock.</p><p>"You can't see him," Logan remembered to add. "I don't know why I can." He heard his frustration pushing through his voice at not understanding this, not understanding any of it.</p><p>And if he didn't, how could he expect Patton to?</p><p>But they just nodded, hands still linked with his as the two sat on a bench, and people passed by on foot and in cars and on bikes, and the chill of the air swept around them. Logan looked up to the sky for a moment, not finding any answers in Patton's face, but the grey clouds didn't hold any either.</p><p>Patton stood up suddenly. They left one of their hands in his, and he tightened his hold, realizing he took comfort in it.</p><p>He was forced to stand with them if he didn't want to let go, however, as they started walking, still staying quiet, expressionless.</p><p>And then they turned around, and said, "Maybe he just has to move on."</p><p>"Patton?" Logan halted his own feet.</p><p>"If he's being tugged here, something's keeping him here."</p><p>Logan couldn't have said if he was mentally following this or not. His thoughts were still trying to piece themselves together in the wake of the emotions swirling in his stomach. It seemed clear enough, though.</p><p>"He needs to overcome it and move on." Their voice was determined. "Spirits are often held to the mortal world because of something not settled in their past life."</p><p>"But we don't know," Logan said, almost desperately. The words came with their own sort of panic. "Everything about this is new, Patton. What you believed about spirits might not be what we need to know." He was trying to call back to Patton's earlier statement about belief and knowledge, unsure of his own meaning but knowing he had to get this point across, even if he couldn't quite put it into the words he needed to.</p><p>"Then let's ask him," Patton declared, and started walking back to the apartment.</p><p>Logan still didn't understand their overall reaction. He hadn't expected an emotional shutdown, a reversion to facts, because that was what he did, not Patton.</p><p>He was starting to realize he had been counting on Patton to be themself, to reassure him. He didn't know how to be the one to do that for them. He squeezed their hand tighter and kept walking.</p><p>Patton turned to face him, pausing suddenly, as though they had just thought of something. "Logan, it's okay to have emotions over this. Suicide is a heavy topic, even if you don't have any personal experience with it." Their words still came out as though reciting something. It was a reassurance, but an afterthought, an obligation, and a reminder that Logan wasn't the only one who counted on Patton's advice, who put that weight and expectation on them that they constantly fulfilled even when they needed it more themself.</p><p>He nodded once, and walked with them back to the building, and they reached the steps just as it started to rain.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There wasn't a response from Roman, and there hadn't been for the past few minutes; Logan didn't know how many more times he could call the spirit's name before an unfamiliar worry took him over.</p><p>Patton had sat down, cross-legged, on the main room's floor, which was now long bare of blankets. They hadn't moved, but Logan was walking around the small apartment. He hated how upset his voice sounded as he called out again, futilely louder than before, "Roman? Please come out."</p><p>"I thought you already knew I'm gay," came a voice next to ear, and he felt a distressing mixture of exasperated frustration and prominent relief.</p><p>Roman still hadn't visually manifested. Logan frowned and sat down next to Patton. "Why did you hide?" He hoped for a blunt answer, not another unusually sarcastic quip.</p><p>Roman came into view as he sat down facing Logan and Patton, the three of them forming their own triangle shape that only two of them could see, in the middle of the carpet. Patton's head was tilted, facing just a bit to the left of Roman, likely purposefully in the same general direction that Logan was looking.</p><p>"You told Patton about me."</p><p>"Yes," said Logan, almost startled, and having thought that had been obvious, by the way he had clearly not tried to hide his attempt to incite Roman out. "Is that a problem?"</p><p>He realized, after he spoke, that of course it would be. He had just revealed Roman's existence to someone who was, to Roman, likely still an unknown factor in this whole deal. He had certainly not asked first. And maybe it <em>was </em>similar to the queer kind of coming out, and Logan had done it for an unknowing Roman.</p><p>"I'm sorry," he said, cutting over the beginning of Roman's response. "I shouldn't have done that."</p><p>"No," Roman agreed. "I don't want to talk to you."</p><p>Logan bit the inside of his cheek to hold back a retort that would prove him just as childish as he felt Roman was being right now. He tapped his fingers against the rough carpeting.</p><p>"Go away," Roman was adding, and the retort burst out at full speed.</p><p>"This is <em>my </em>place, and I said I'm sorry, and we're trying to help you." His voice was loud.</p><p>"Yeah, well, I'm sorry too," Roman said, sarcastic and high-pitched.</p><p>"Roman," Patton said hesitantly. They didn't continue, perhaps waiting for Logan to relay a reply, but the spirit was staying silent, watching them almost in shock.</p><p>"Hi," they continued after a bit.</p><p>"Hi." Roman's reply was almost automatic.</p><p>"He said hi."</p><p>"I'm Patton."</p><p>"Hi," repeated Roman. Logan decided to wait for a further elaboration from him before repeating his words. He closed his eyes as a resignation to the role of translator, not bothering to watch Roman and Patton.</p><p>"How are you?" asked Patton, despite ostensibly thinking that Roman hadn't responded to them, and before Roman <em>could</em> apparently find a response.</p><p>"I'm fine," said Roman, still evidently startled at this development. After a moment, Logan remembered that Patton was relying on him to repeat this, and explained hurriedly, "He said he's fine."</p><p>"You can just say what he says verbatim," Patton suggested, "to make things faster. I'd rather have a one-on-one conversation with him anyway, so just repeat his input and I'll know it's coming from him."</p><p>Logan felt only briefly hurt at the exclusion of his own voice before he nodded.</p><p>It became clear, after a few seconds, that Patton was not going to keep talking. Roman spoke at his own alleged realization of this-- "How can you help me? And with what?" he added.</p><p>"He said-- I mean, um. 'How can you help? And with what?'"</p><p>"If there's something keeping you here, we should figure out what it is so that you can be content." Patton's voice had not lost its unnerving smoothness.</p><p>"Isn't that only a thing on TV shows?"</p><p>"'Isn't that only a thing on TV shows?'" Logan parroted, internally agreeing with Roman's doubt.</p><p>"It might be," Patton agreed, "but from what Logan's told me, it might also be why you were pulled here."</p><p>"He didn't ask me before telling you," Roman said, and his voice had that childish edge again.</p><p>"'He didn't ask me before telling you.'" Logan's own voice had guilt on its borders, and he was sure Patton heard it.</p><p>They poked him as they replied to Roman; "He should've." Roman stifled a laugh at this. "Do you know what might be keeping you here?" they continued, Logan still marveling at how collected they seemed. Of course, at least to his knowledge, this spiritual revelation was simply a justification for them instead of the epiphanic discovery it had been for Logan.</p><p>He pushed these thoughts aside to pay attention as Roman replied, "I really don't."</p><p>"'I really don't.'" The repetition was already getting tiring for Logan, and he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. Patton spared him a glance, their gaze still not expressing anything that could tell him how they were really handling all this, though he wasn't extremely perceptive in the first place.</p><p>He shifted position a few different times during the next ten minutes, during Roman telling Patton a bit about his life and even his death, during jealousy creeping in at the edges of Logan's mind as two people he would both call friends talked as though he wasn't there. And Roman had been <em>his</em>, he realized, irrational though the thought was; now he was Patton's too. He tried to get the illogical thoughts to go away, but he had started accepting illogical things quite a bit more in the last week, however disconcerting that was to him, and they stuck around.</p><p>"I regret it," Roman was admitting. "Mostly because I didn't really get to say bye to my boyfriend, but...yeah, I don't know." He made the so-so motion with his hands.</p><p>Logan repeated this dutifully, watching a smile break across Patton's face encouragingly as he did so. "So maybe you didn't get closure with him."</p><p>"Oh." Roman looked consideringly at him. "Do you think that's it?"</p><p>"'Oh, do you think that's it?'"</p><p>"Yeah, probably!" Patton sounded enthused. "We should find him!"</p><p>"Oh." Roman still looked as though he was contemplating this. "That makes sense."</p><p>Logan started to stand up, taking Patton's hand to pull them with him. "He said that makes sense," he intoned, as he walked them towards his bedroom and shut the door behind them. Roman's face was undoubtedly startled on the other side of it, but Logan had decided he might as well act on his observations of Patton, since everything in the past five days had been nonsensical at any rate, so he might as well give up on his logic and reasoning in favor of instinct if nothing else was going to make any sense.</p><p>"Are you okay?"</p><p>Patton's face was closing off again. "What?"</p><p>"You're acting oddly." Logan withdrew his hand self-consciously and restrained from crossing his arms over himself.</p><p>A second passed of Patton staring at him before they started to bite their lip, eyes welling up. "Shit."</p><p>It was one of the only times Logan had heard them curse. He instinctively reached out again, but they turned and sat on the bed, avoiding his hand. "I don't know. I feel like I don't know anything anymore." Emotion was breaking through their voice, in a prominent way that was alarming yet reassuring; the emotion meant, for some reason Logan couldn't quite explain, even to himself, that Patton was going to be alright.</p><p>"I understand," he said, feeling vaguely that he should apologize for dragging them away, but more so that they needed to have this conversation.</p><p>"I like having something to do, though," Patton admitted. "If I can help Roman-- I mean, we still don't really know if he actually needs help, do we? But it gives me a purpose."</p><p>"That makes sense." Logan thought that maybe the only thing he could do right now was validate what Patton was saying. They gave him a small smile, wiping their eyes quickly, and he felt just a bit more confident.</p><p>"I'm still processing all this, though," they confessed. "At the end of the day, I'm still talking to someone I can't see, who's being I wasn't fully sure existed, you know?"</p><p>Logan thought, internally, that they really were very wise. He'd assumed their naivety and been proven several times wrong times before, and made a mental note to start being more aware of that, of his best friend's depth.</p><p>They flopped back on the bed with a sigh. Logan couldn't help but let out a small laugh. He wondered when he had started allowing himself to loosen up; he wasn't sure yet how okay he was with that.</p><p>"You don't really need a purpose like I do, do you, Logan?" they said thoughtfully, and out of nowhere.</p><p>Logan paused. "I haven't thought about it. Everyone needs goals, don't they?" he added.</p><p>"Maybe," hummed Patton.</p><p>"Maybe your goals are-- maybe they always have to do with other people. That's what it seems like, anyway."</p><p>"You're smart," Patton giggled. "And your goals are more personal goals, so you don't notice them as much?"</p><p>Logan felt a bit of surprise at how much that made sense. "Something like that."</p><p>"Something like that," they agreed. "I'm sorry for shutting down today."</p><p>"That's what I did too. I just walked out of the apartment."</p><p>Patton actually gave a small gasp. "I didn't even think about how you would have reacted. You didn't believe in that stuff, did you? How did you keep yourself from going insane? Hey, we should probably go back out now. Wait, what if we <em>are </em>insane?"</p><p>Logan hadn't realized how much comfort he could find in their lighthearted chattering. "It was a possibility I considered," he replied, and they laughed. It wasn't a laugh that said everything was okay, but it let him know things were getting there. "You seem to be fairly sure of your sanity, though."</p><p>"I always wanted it to be real, so it's easy to accept it as reality," they said, as they opened the door to Roman, who looked like he was edging on vexed.</p><p>"Where did you guys go?"</p><p>Patton had already started talking over him, unaware. "Sorry about that that, Roman. I should probably go now, though."</p><p>"Okay," Roman sighed, still sounding a bit miffed.</p><p>"He said okay."</p><p>"I'll see you later," Patton, said to the room at large. "I really should get back home."</p><p>"Good bye." Logan watched them head out the door.</p><p>"Bye!" they called behind them.</p><p>"They're nice," Roman admitted.</p><p>"Yes," agreed Logan, starting to feel drained. "I'm going to do some work, if you don't mind." He grabbed his laptop and headed to the bedroom, pausing for a second and hesitantly flashing Roman a quick smile.</p><p> </p><p>He had another dream that night like the one the day before, and when he woke up he had to remind himself he was in his bedroom, and not lost in the stagnant, deathly grey.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Are you alright? You look a little out of it."</p><p>Logan spared a glance before going back to his textbook, unwilling to acknowledge, at least out loud, that Roman was right, that thoughts of the dream kept creeping back to the front of his mind, that whenever he looked up, the world around him felt a little less colorful at the edges.</p><p>"Okay, then," Roman drawled, "if you're going to be like that, can I use your phone?" His tone went from sardonic to hopeful.</p><p>"No," said Logan, "why?"</p><p>Roman hesitated, the lack of immediate response causing Logan to look up again. "I want to try texting Patton," he admitted, hastening to add, "Then you wouldn't have to be the go-between!"</p><p>"But why do you want to talk to him?"</p><p>"Because I think he might be right," he grinned, almost tentative, but with hands spread to give it weight. "About my boyfriend being why I need closure. He's a lot of why I stayed alive, and I've thought about him a lot after my death, and I didn't realize just how much of all of this was a-- a thing, until I thought about it a lot after yesterday."</p><p>Logan processed this with a considering look, taking a few seconds to think. He thought that Roman was like Patton, maybe, in this regard, latching onto a goal when they found one, more vibrant now that they had purpose, even if this particular situation didn't seem extraordinarily rationalized to Logan. He twisted to grab his phone, though, unlocking it before tossing it to Roman and going back to his reading, barely registering the spirit as he called out a thanks before flopping onto the floor.</p><p>Minutes passed by in silence, excluding the occasional notification sounds, presumably from Patton replying, before Roman spoke up again. "Hey, Logan, who used to be in this apartment?"</p><p>"I have no idea," Logan admitted, barely turning to look at him. He felt kind of bad for not being able to help, like he owed it somehow to the spirit that had taken up unwilling residence in his current home. "My father set it up for me, but he likely wouldn't know either."</p><p>"Oh." Roman appeared to be taking a moment to think about this. "Rich parents?"</p><p>"Hmm? I guess you could say so."</p><p>"Huh."</p><p>A few seconds passed before Roman continued without prompting, though Logan thought he had probably "It's just that since I ended up <em>here</em> in particular, I thought this might have been his apartment. I couldn't really remember it..." He trailed off uncertainly.</p><p>"If he doesn't live here now, what does it matter?" Logan asked honestly, feeling himself start to engage more in the conversation.</p><p>"Oh," Roman repeated. "You have a point."</p><p>"So what is your plan, exactly?" Logan folded his book shut and turned to fully look at him.</p><p>"For finding him? I don't know. I don't have his number or anything."</p><p>"And if you do find him?"</p><p>"Then..." Roman gazed at the floor. "Then I don't know. Do I need to know?"</p><p>"Mightn't that be a good idea?" he said dryly. If this was going to be an important moment for Roman, why would he not have it planned out to the last detail? <em>Different person, different experiences, different ways of doing things</em>, Logan reminded himself, forcing the questions to sink down, but still hoping Roman had more of a plan than just magically finding whoever this boyfriend was and going from there, which was what it seemed to be amounting to at the moment. "Would he even be able to see you?"</p><p>Roman actually began to look hurt. "Logan, just because you're the type of person who doesn't act on emotion, that doesn't mean other people need to-- I don't know. I know that there are flaws, but-- whatever, right?"</p><p>Logan set his book down beside him, instinctively leaning forward. "Why is this a 'whatever?' And why is not acting on emotion a bad thing?" Frustration was simmering inside of him, in reaction to Roman's own negative tone.</p><p>"Why is acting on emotion not a <em>good </em>thing?" Roman countered, brow now furrowed. "Why can't it be a beautiful thing?"</p><p>"It's not that," Logan said, voice starting to rise, not totally sure what "that" was. "It's that you don't know what's going to happen, and you're fine with that? That's-- it's stupid." He flinched as soon as the words came out, dubiously harsh, certainly unnecessary.</p><p>Roman's frown was bordering on angry. "Why is it your problem? I'm <em>sorry</em> that you're scared of the unknown or whatever, but I'm okay with letting my instincts and my heart tell me where to go! That's just who I am!" He sounded almost less dramatic than usual, despite the clear emotion behind the words-- he was getting serious; not like he hadn't been, but like he had been less forceful about it before, and now he was just really trying to get his point across.</p><p>Logan stayed quiet. He tried to figure out where the conversation had escalated, but all he knew was that he must have done something wrong. "I'm sorry," he said, quietly, and not without difficulty.</p><p>"Yeah," Roman pushed out, turning back to the phone. He exhaled and tossed it at Logan. "Unlock?"</p><p>Logan mutely swiped the pattern and passed it back, still feeling upset, both at himself and at Roman. He didn't fully understand why, and he hated that. Of course he would not want to act on emotions when they confused him, kept him from thinking clearly, and he knew he wouldn't ever fully get why other people were different from that. People were so diverse, he knew that and thought it an amazing thing about humanity, but that also meant he wouldn't ever be able to fully understand anyone else.</p><p><em>But that doesn't mean you yell at them</em>, said a part of him (if he was honest, it sounded rather like Patton) that he simultaneously silently laughed at and fully agreed with.</p><p>He stood, as if to walk away from this mental struggle, though he knew that would be useless. He wondered <em>why</em>, since Roman's appearance, his emotions kept bubbling up, kept ignoring his logical thoughts, kept making everything so much harder.</p><p>He carried his textbook into his bedroom and sat down heavily on his bed. He leaned against his pillows for a long time, reading, taking notes, trying not to think about how stupid he was likely being, trying not to focus on the entity and its aim on the other side of the door lest he get too swept away in it all.</p><p> </p><p>The door opened. Logan didn't look up, halfway through scribbling down a note before he forgot it. He only snapped out of it when his phone fell onto his bed in front of him.</p><p>"Patton's going to call you," Roman explained, and walked back out, current emotions indiscernible.</p><p>Logan reached for the phone, clicking his pen as he waited, slightly bemused. It starting ringing a few seconds later, Patton's contact picture-- them laughing at something out of frame-- lighting up the screen, and he answered it with a hello.</p><p>"Hey, Lo!" Patton's standard greeting for him made him relax almost unconsciously. "I just wanted to check in. I know Roman and I've been plotting an awful lot."</p><p>"I still think this is daft," Logan returned, words holding no edge when they came out but not having been thought over properly, and he pressed a hand to his forehead with the force of regret. Patton just gave a small laugh, though.</p><p>"Yeah, well, think of it as an adventure! Not that you have to be a part of it if you don't want to," they reminded him, and he knew that meant he could stop commenting on it, too.</p><p>"How's progress, then," he said instead, going along despite still feeling a bit confused with himself and with Patton and Roman, and a bit exasperated with them all too.</p><p>"I don't know," Patton admitted. "Roman looked him up, I guess, but said there wasn't anything. The texting idea was a good one," they added, more brightly.</p><p>"Roman thought of it."</p><p>"That's cool."</p><p>The line was briefly quiet. Logan could hear some small background noise over the phone, too far away for him to comprehend what it was. "How is your brother?"</p><p>"He's good," Patton said, voice having turned thoughtful. "I mean, better, anyway?" There was more silence before they said, "You've changed a bit, you know."</p><p>This seemed to come out of nowhere, and Logan frowned in surprise and incomprehension; "What do you mean?"</p><p>"You've just..." The thoughtful tone hadn't gone away, mixing with a sort of sincerity. Logan found himself sitting up straighter as he listened to his friend.</p><p>"You've branched out, from your way of doing things-- your systems, I guess, always so methodical, and the way you talk almost automatically, and all." This was said in a way that made Logan start to think Patton had been ruminating on this since before this impromptu conversation, but he was still trying to process the words, to comprehend Patton's perception of him, of what he supposedly wasn't any more.</p><p>"I don't see that in myself," he said, after a pause. "Why would it even happen? I'm-- I'm confused, Patton. I think you might be reading too much into me. I don't know why I would change, or--" He could feel a stutter building behind his tongue as he started to maunder, and cut himself off.</p><p>"Sometimes, when your whole world changes, it feels like you can change too."</p><p>It was another piece of wisdom, almost out of place from his bubbly friend's mouth. It made Logan realize that Patton's thought process about this included the appearance and existence of Roman, whatever meaning that might hold.</p><p>"I don't even know how I would be changing," Logan argued, and it was a response both to Patton and to the small portion of his mind that was really trying to listen to them.</p><p>Patton's words came cautiously but without audible regret at what they were saying. "I mean, you used to stay away from people, right? You don't really get attached."</p><p>"We've had this conversation," said Logan, wondering where Patton was going with this.</p><p>"Sorry, kiddo. But I just meant that now you seem to have gotten close to Roman, in just a few days, I mean--"</p><p>"That was due to a bit of a forced situation." Logan didn't dwell on the fact that he couldn't truly deny he had allowed Roman and himself to get closer than he normally would, though of course, as he had come to terms with already, not much about said situation was the normal he preferred.</p><p>"But that's my point! You were pushed into a situation where you had to adapt and grow, out of your comfort zone. And it was worth it, right?" Patton's words were sending shocks to Logan's mind, paths of recognition and acceptance, and a sudden, quite subtle feeling, underneath it all, that was imagining all this meant he was contributing to that web of people he had imagined in the coffee shop two days ago.</p><p>But Roman probably wasn't even a part of that web of connection, was he? He was just a ghost, and a being of another world. It was an odd realization. </p><p>"Okay," Logan said, aware that this was a poor substitute for a proper response, but not sure of how to compose one. "I...I suppose. Okay."</p><p>"And I get why it's then going to be hard for you to let him go." Patton sounded sympathetic.</p><p>It took a couple seconds for this to register in Logan's brain, for embarrassment to edge in at having forgotten what all the aforementioned plotting actually would mean for Roman.</p><p><em>Oh</em>.</p><p>He wasn't sure if he wanted Roman to leave.</p><p>"I'm going to go now," Patton faltered.</p><p>"Okay. Good bye." The phone screen lit up again as the call ended, and Logan felt suddenly alone, wishing he hadn't allowed himself to get so lost in thought that he let Patton go with a meaningless good bye, without at least thanking him for the significant conversation.</p><p>He wondered, then, if he could just ignore all these emotions by purposefully sinking into that feeling of unreality, which had been drifting in and out. He felt like he had quite a bit to think about, and too much to feel, and he couldn't help wishing it would go away.</p><p>He turned his phone in his hands, staring at the opposite wall where he had seen Roman for the first time just this past week, and thinking about Roman and Patton both, and trying not to think about himself as well, and failing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW car crash, and remember the archive warning? Yeah.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roman and Patton were gradually getting more and more on Logan's nerves. He had given Roman his phone password at this point, so that the spirit wouldn't keep coming to him for it, but that was turning out to somehow be more inconvenient for Logan; he'd recently searched the whole apartment for the phone itself before realizing both it and Roman were missing. Ten minutes later, Roman had phased through the front door, explaining he had been checking a place he thought Remy, who was the boyfriend, might have moved to.</p><p>"Wasn't he going to be in Oregon?" Logan pointed out, grabbing his phone back.</p><p>"Oh, no, I..." Roman hesitated. "I found his Facebook page. He's still around here somewhere. I didn't find him, though," he added.</p><p>Now, Logan was holed up in his room, waiting for all of this to be over. He felt unneeded, in any case; Patton and Roman had found an activity together, something they were perfectly happy to do, something he still found to be foolish. And if Roman was okay with the chance that this would actually work, and he would be gone without saying good bye to Logan, then Logan could be okay with that too.</p><p>He couldn't help but remind himself somewhat harshly that this was why he tried to refrain from becoming attached to people.</p><p>Patton met up with him at an author talk that evening at a nearby bookstore, one that they had been planning on going to for a few weeks, even before Roman, and it quelled some of his irrational jealousy. He couldn't help some of his thoughts spilling out to them afterwards, though; "Do you think you're actually going to find him?"</p><p>They shrugged. "If nothing else, this is fun. I get to interact with a ghost, Logan! It's crazy!" They grinned at him. "And I feel like I'm helping, at least a little bit."</p><p>Logan thought Patton might be taking this less seriously than Roman, who had latched onto all of it almost desperately. "He didn't even think about this before you came in with your cliche moving on thing," he pointed out.</p><p>Patton laughed. "I guess I see your point. But Logan, you know, Roman likes you. If he thought he was going to 'move on'"-- they gave "move on" finger quotes-- "he'd talk to you first, he'd tell you bye."</p><p>"That's not the problem," responded Logan, not believing himself. "Not that there is a problem."</p><p>"But all of this is happening pretty fast, isn't it," Patton said, "and I mean all of this as in the last week, not just since you told me about Roman."</p><p>"Yes." Logan shifted in his chair, where they were seated at the back of the bookshop, a few people milling nearby. "It has." He thought maybe the metaphorical, analytical gears, stuck in processing six days ago, hadn't been working quite right ever since.</p><p>"Are you going to talk to Roman?" Patton asked, not without some curiosity seeping into his voice.</p><p>Logan tugged at a loose thread on the chair. "I suppose." He wasn't sure what they would be talking about, but he wanted the uneasy feeling in his stomach to go away, the feeling that demanded he had to fix things, even if he didn't know quite what those things were.</p><p>They both went back to Logan's apartment, Patton planning on staying just the evening. Roman met them at the door. "I think I've found him," he burst out, a bit too close and loud for Logan's comfort.</p><p>Logan blinked in surprise. "Oh."</p><p>"Can you tell Patton?" Roman had a hopeful smile, brighter than ever.</p><p>"Roman says he found Remy," Logan relayed, moving to fix himself a cup of tea. He pulled his deep blue mug from the cupboard as he listened to Roman talk quickly,</p><p>"We could all three head over there right now, it's not too long a drive. He's in a house with a few other people. He made a post about some party there, and yes it sounds like I've been stalking him, but let's not talk about that, shall we?</p><p>Logan found himself meeting this with acceptance before he could fully process it, before he could decide what he wanted to do or even how he wanted to react, before he could form a logical opinion. He turned on the stove to heat up the water, remembering when he had gone through the same actions the first time Roman had appeared, when his internal world had begun to crack open in a way that was not entirely negative.</p><p>And five minutes later, he was walking down the sidewalk with a human on his left and a spirit on his right, hands wrapped around his warm thermos of vanilla chai and listening to Roman ramble about the fact that he didn't have a car.</p><p>It was only a twenty minute walk, though, and it felt peaceful, despite the sounds of traffic and people and despite his constant translation for Patton and Roman, who were chattering about trivial topics as they walked. Even if he felt not entirely there, the two-dimensional feeling creeping into his vision again, he figured he could at least be content in the fact that he was with two friends in a city he loved. For once, he didn't feel like he had to rationalize anything.</p><p>When they reached the street the shared house was allegedly on, however, Roman faltered suddenly, leading Logan to pause as well as he turned to look behind him. Patton halted a few seconds after Logan did, turning back to look at them.</p><p>Roman's breath was coming fast, hands clenched at his sides. "I can't do this," he whispered.</p><p>Logan took his arm and sat down with him on the sidewalk, aware that they were likely to be in the way of anyone passing by-- and to be seen as crazy-- but he didn't care at the moment. "Roman, why not?" he hissed, but not too unkindly.</p><p>"I-- what if he doesn't care?" Logan could see Roman's eyes getting glassy as they welled up. "Logan, what if he doesn't-- sometimes," Roman continued, taking a breath that admittedly did not seem to do much to quell his apparent panic, "sometimes I got the feeling that--" He choked on tears that now spilled down his cheeks. Logan felt panic of his own worming its way up inside of him.</p><p>Roman's next words came out fast, even defensive. "Sometimes I got the feeling didn't even love me that much. Logan, he was one of the best things in my life. He was one of the only good things. And now it's three months after my death, and he's posting about his new boyfrie--" A choking kind of sob escaped Roman's mouth, adding to the feeling of powerlessness Logan was increasingly experiencing at this point. He was only just aware of Patton's concerned hovering, out of the corner of his eye.</p><p>"And I know that he wasn't the best person," Roman breathed out shakily. "But I still love him. I know that something's keeping me here, and maybe if I just see him again--"</p><p>"You can be free without him," Logan cut in, abruptly, wanting Roman's crying to stop, needing Roman to realize that he could be okay, starting to realize himself that he needed Roman to be okay.</p><p>The crying did stop, and Logan closed his eyes against Roman's chocolate brown ones, against Roman's shaky breaths, against Roman's shocked face.</p><p>"I think we should go home, Roman," he found himself saying.</p><p>"I think so too," Roman said unsteadily, after a moment of fraught quiet.</p><p>"Okay." Logan took Roman's hand and pulled him up as he stood. He didn't let it go, and Patton grabbed his thermos from him to take his other hand, and he felt a kind of detached calm as they started to walk back in uncertain silence. Patton didn't question them, just leaned into him a bit.</p><p>The three of them spent some time without talking. Logan watched the uneven gray of the sidewalk blur beneath his feet as he walked.</p><p>"Lo? Are you okay?" spoke up Patton.</p><p>"I'm okay," said Logan, and it was kind of automatic, but he didn't know if he could piece together a full answer at the moment. "Are you? Both of you?"</p><p>"Yeah," Patton said. Roman didn't respond, and Logan glanced over to see he was looking down at his feet too, before he looked up to meet Logan's eyes.</p><p>"I'm not sure," he admitted. "How are you okay?"</p><p>Logan contemplated the unorthodox question. "What do you mean?"</p><p>"I mean that you're so put together in life. You're always okay. You always have a plan. It's like you're okay because you don't have any emotions to make you not okay."</p><p>This, said in a contemplative yet factual voice, caught Logan somewhat by surprise. "Well, I didn't know that about myself," he said, allowing some vague hostility to creep into his voice. Both Roman and Patton had now acted as though they were analyzing him, but he didn't need a report on himself. He barely gave Roman's actual words any thought, fully aware of his own abundance of emotions and of the fact that he simply tended to ignore them.</p><p>Patton looked at him curiously. He felt almost guilty for leaving them out of these conversations, but he didn't have the power to allow Patton to hear Roman. He tried to give them a small smile, and held their hand tighter. He felt lost, uncertain of what to do, of what the situation was.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Roman said, softly, and genuinely, before adding on, "I just-- don't you listen to your heart?"</p><p>"I listen to my mind," replied Logan curtly, but he tried to tamp down his annoyance, knowing Roman wasn't intending anything negative.</p><p>"So where do you get your meaning, if not from your heart and your emotions?" It was a question of curiosity, making Logan think Roman honestly wanted to understand him better. He took a moment to think about his answer.</p><p>"I don't follow my emotions," he said, almost hesitantly, "but I feel content in going through things the way I do. Logic makes me feel like I'm more in control."</p><p>"I guess that makes sense. I like being impulsive," Roman admitted, "it's exciting. Sometimes not having control or logic feels kind of nice."</p><p>"Patton follows their emotions too," Logan said, remembering his own mental recognition of this earlier, and trying to pull his friend into the conversation.</p><p>They smiled at him, despite not knowing the full context behind it. "I do. I think it's remarkable how different people are. And how different people can be friends."</p><p>He knew Patton's words were meant at least partly for him, and they felt like a treasure he could hold to his chest, as warm as both of the hands he was clutching as they walked.</p><p>Then Patton's phone rang, and Logan watched their face shut down a few seconds after they answered, which meant something was wrong.</p><p>"Yeah, I'll be home right away," they said, fingers tightening around Logan's hand. "Bye." They tucked their phone away. "That was Ally. I guess my brother's not doing so well."</p><p>"He was ill, right?"</p><p>"Right. But we thought he got over it." They were biting their lip in the pauses between sentences. "It's probably nothing to worry about, though."</p><p>"Patton--" Logan wasn't sure what he wanted to say. He looked over at Roman, who looked worried as well.</p><p>"It's fine, Lo, you know how I overreact. I think I'm going to walk to my car and then head home, though, if that's okay."</p><p>"That's fine. Do you want me to come with you?"</p><p>They started to say something, and then hesitated before responding, "Sure. I'd appreciate that."</p><p>Roman nudged his shoulder. "Tell them I hope everything's alright."</p><p>Logan repeated Roman's words, and a smile tugged at Patton's lips. "Thanks, Roman."</p><p>They started back, Logan and Roman trailing behind Patton on the narrow sidewalk. "They're a really good person," Roman commented, watching Patton as they walked.</p><p>"I agree," Logan said. He hesitated, wondering whether he should continue. "They do so much for other people, it makes me worry about them sometimes." The confession was out of place for him, but it felt more comfortable to admit than it would have a week ago.</p><p>"But you do that too." Roman looked over at Logan, surprising him. "You've been amazing with all of this, and it can't have been easy for you."</p><p>Logan was startled. "I've hardly been able to help you."</p><p>"You have," Roman smiled, "trust me, whether moving on is why I'm here or not. I can only hope I'll be able to help you in return somehow."</p><p>The words carried a weight that came to rest deep in Logan's chest, not so much a burden as a puzzle piece settling into place. It was a feeling of acceptance of Roman's words, and he found himself welcoming it. "I'm glad I was able to help you. And Roman--" He turned the words over in his mind before speaking them out loud. "I've grown because of you, I think. I'd like to call you a friend, if that's okay with you."</p><p>The level of delight in Roman's expression was almost disconcerting. "Of course!"</p><p>The two of them shared a glance that made the feeling in Logan's chest grow even warmer, and they sped up simultaneously to walk alongside Patton despite the cramped sidewalk, the three of them quiet but, Logan thought, content. He knew that what he had said to Roman was undoubtedly true, although he certainly had more growth to do, even if the idea frightened him somewhat. It was less scary, though, with Patton and Roman walking alongside him.</p><p>The three of them got into Patton's old Subaru once they reached the bookstore where the author talk had been held, and Roman began talking again. Logan was fairly sure he was trying to make Patton feel better. "What's your brother like? I don't have any siblings myself, sadly."</p><p>The two started into a conversation, Logan jumping in only to be Roman's voice. Eventually it quieted down, as they pulled up to a red light.</p><p>Patton glanced over at him in thought as the car moved forward again, light blinking to green above them. "It's been a heck of a few days, hasn't it?"</p><p>But Logan barely had time to think of a response before what felt like the loudest noise he had ever heard hit his ears. Glass shattering and little stinging barbs of pain, and a much bigger pain as he registered his body being thrown forward, and a thought, echoing in his panicked mind; Planes being mixed up. The lines between the dimensions becoming blurry. Unusually perceptive; close to death.</p><p>And then, the world was dark; and then, all thoughts left him; and then, there was nothing, not even grey.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well. That's done (after a month of writing, a year of procrastinating, and a tiny bit of editing. I know it's not the best writing, so honestly, thank you for reading to the end). I would love to write a sequel, and probably will at some point, because I definitely have ideas about where this would go, and it doesn't feel fair to end the journey here. Feel free to let me know what you thought (as well as constructive criticism, for I am not adept at writing long stories and could use advice). Thanks for reading :)</p>
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